Golden Summer
by Die Libelle
Summary: Follow the lives of Harry, Ron and Hermione at Hogwarts during one long summer, with the promise of love, fun and stupidity, and everything in between... RHr ship and a little bit of HPGW
1. Chapter 1

**A/N This is my first ever fanfic and although it has been trialled on my darling sister, I have no idea at all how people will like it. Also just a warning that I might not be updating very often because we are on the cusp of GCSE exam season and I really should be busy revising right now. I would appreciate feedback :) Oh and a second warning, a lot of this probably isn't quite what it seems. Don't be shocked :) well that's all for now...enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: this is a pure fanfiction story and Harry Potter does not belong to me hmph**

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It was three o'clock in the morning and Hogwarts was asleep. Even Mrs. Norris was getting her 40 winks under a table in Filch's office, and if you were to walk the corridors, you would have heard the gentle murmur of portraits snoring. For once the school was peaceful and the students were tucked up in their dormitories. Well. Relatively speaking: Harry was having a nightmare. Neville was tossing and turning in his sleep, occasionally hitting his head with a thunk on the side of his bed. Ron was talking in strings of unintelligible words. Dean was sleep normally. And Seamus, well, Seamus was snoring. Quite loudly.

Professor McGonagall strode towards Harry.

"POTTER!" she barked.

Harry stood frozen while Ron did his best to hide behind Hermione.

"Where. Have. You. Been?"

Harry thought it best not to answer, and shut his mouth tightly, so as not to stick his foot in it anymore than he had already. He felt a poke and heard Hermione hiss,

"Answer her, idiot!"

"Um…heh, you know…" Harry danced on the spot, trying to come up with an excuse.

"…I…er…Quidditch practice…oh my is that the time…wellbeseeingyoubye"

Harry made to leave and turned on his heel, but Ron and Hermione weren't going anywhere. In fact, they were rooted to the spot, eyes wide, and jaws skimming the ground. Carefully Harry turned back to see Professor McGonagall in tears.

"Professor!" gasped Harry; and then more sheepishly, " Was it something I said?"

The deputy headmistress wiped tears from her cheek with the back of her hand and nodded.

"But it's true – I did go to Quidditch practice."

"Clearly, you do not understand."

"Urm…understand what?"

"Harry, you are my everything. I love you more than anyone I've ever known – anything I do, it's for you…"

Harry gulped. During her speech, Professor McGonagall had moved quickly towards him, taking advantage of his shock, and now her eyes were staring into his. Her nose was millimetres away from Harry's own nose. The eyes closed. Two hands held his face. A puckered mouth was moving slowly, painfully towards him. Harry's lips trembled. No, he thought. No. Not this. Please. Their lips met and Professor McGonagall opened wider.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Sitting bolt upright in his bed, Harry screamed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Weeeelll here's chapter 2 - please let me know what you think...can't really write very long chapters at the minute. Sorry :)  
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**Disclaimer: I own nothing, nada, nada, nada. **

Dean sprang out of bed and grabbed his wand first, and was joined by the other boys seconds later.

Harry was completely white and shaking.

"Harry, what's wrong?" asked Dean, handing him his glasses, "Was it a nightmare?"

Harry nodded, "P-p-professor McGonagall….arghhhh" Not being able to say the words he pointed a finger at his lips.

"WHAT! She kissed you!"

"Uh-huh"

Neville gave him a hug, "It's OK Harry," he soothed, "It was only a dream."

"Yeah, don't worry man, if she tried it with you then we'd all stop her. Especially Ron"

"Heh. Thanks guys," grinned Harry, "Uh speaking of Ron – where is he?"

The three boys around Harry's bed parted like the Red Sea to show a sleeping, mumbling redhead lying in the bed across from Harry. Ron was muttering to someone. Curious, Harry clambered out from under the sheets and went over to his friend.

"Hey Seamus, listen to this," he whispered.

"Mmmm…ironing. Ohhhhh ironing."

"What the hell!.." started Seamus, " I _knew _that boy was nuts…I mean, a passion for wizarding chess, a rat named Scabbers, an obsession with the Chudley Cannons and now a fetish for housework." He continued, shaking his head.

Harry gasped.

"What?" said Seamus, " I know he's your friend, but come on…"

"No not that – he doesn't have a fetish for housework. Listen harder." Harry beckoned Dean.

"Oh my gawwwwd!" giggled Dean, "He's saying HER-MIONE!"

"Shut up!" hissed Harry.

But it was too late. Ron awoke with a jolt.

"What are you doing?" he squeaked, scanning the three guilty faces surrounding his bed.

"Nothing," they chorused in unison. Ron eyes them all suspiciously, especially Harry who was trying to back away nonchalantly. Unfortunately for Harry, his heel hit something on the ground, which toppled him onto the floor with a loud thud. Ron peered over the side of the bed to see a rumpled Harry rubbing his foot and cursing a sleeping Neville, who lay sprawled across the floor.

This was going to be a long night.

By 5am the boys had given up all hope of getting back to sleep. For different reasons of course: Ron didn't trust any of them and quite understandably wasn't going to risk his chances by dropping off. Harry didn't want to go back to sleep in case he met Professor McGonagall in his dreams again. Neville was fed up with the bruises he'd obtained from tossing and turning in his bed. Seamus had just realized he hadn't done his Potions homework and was sitting on the floor scribbling furiously, and Dean just couldn't get back to sleep. To make matters worse he could hear Lee Jordan and a couple of other Gryffindors singing rude songs in the dormitory next door. He wouldn't have minded, but really, none of them had what you would call great singing voices. Sighing to him himself, he got up and looked at Harry's watch. Oh well, only another 3 hours 'til breakfast.


	3. Chapter 3

**chapter 3... getting a little longer i think, and the pace may be too slow, but please stick with it grins**

**Disclaimer- same as previously**

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"Hi!" sang Hermione, dumping a load of books on the table, "Sleep well last night?" In reply, Harry looked at her as though she was crazy. Hermione bit back a smile and surveyed the scene. Dean, Seamus and Neville were all slumped in their chairs. Harry looked as though he was about to drop dead in his cornflakes and Ron was making a valiant effort to feed himself, but seemed to have forgotten where his mouth was.

Someone was calling her name. she glanced up to see Ginny waving frantically at her from the other side of the Great Hall.

"One minute," she called. Swallowing her last bite of toast, she gathered up her books, quills and bag, and started to make her over to Ginny as quickly as her legs would carry her. As she sped past the Slytherin table, she didn't see a leg shoot out ready to catch her ankle. Nor did she see who it belonged to, until she had rolled over after smacking into the cold stone floor. The 'tripper-upper' was giving bows to his appreciative house-mates, basking in the adulation, his trademark smirk stretched from ear-to-ear. Hermione hauled herself to her feet, rubbing her head and glowering.

The laughter and cheering stopped as the students saw the murderous look on Hermione's face. All sounds ceased. Even Crabbe and Goyle stopped shoveling food into their faces and looked up. The anticipation was hanging in the air – along with the ghosts who had come to see the fight. A vein in Hermione's neck was pulsing. Her fists were tightly clenched.

"I. Have. Had. Enough. Malfoy," she snarled.

To his credit, Draco looked genuinely terrified.

Right on cue, Colin Creevey dropped his plate. The Hall descended into murmurs and scoldings. A lot of swear words were exchanged.  
Hermione stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled. That got their attention.

"Listen up everybody, there's something you should know," she began. No-one moved. "Something Draco doesn't want an-y-bod-y to know." More silence. Several people were ont eh edge of their seats. "A week ago, I was walking in the corridor and I saw…" At that moment, Draco clamped his hand around her mouth and sat her down next to him.

"Shut-up-shut-up-shut-up" he intoned in her ear. And to the rest of the Hall he waved his free hand and said, "What are you staring at? Get back to eating! Keep talking!" Once he was satisfied that there was enough noise, he released Hermione. Before she could say anything, the blonde-haired boy turned to her and said, "Look. I'm sorry 'k? I was, you know – not thinking and stuff…" Hermione raised an eyebrow. "OK, OK I was thinking , but there was no reason for you to tell the whole school about me wandering the corridors in - " He broke off. Someone was breathing in his ear. He rolled his eyes. "Pansy, piss off OK? This is private." The Slytherin girl narrowed her eyes at Hermione, but turned around all the same

"You were saying?"

"Oh yeah. There's no need to tell the school I was wandering the corridors in…" here he mumbled something so that only Hermione could hear.

"Oh. I didn't actually know about that. I was going to tell them about that little incident you had last week in the Astronomy Tower, when your mother sent you that Howler. And..yeahh…"

Malfoy blushed. "Well that is pretty bad too I guess…I can't believe I just told you…and you didn't even…you weren't even going to say…" he shrugged. "You're going to tell Potter and the Weaselbys all this aren't you?"

Hermione just sat there staring at him.

"Please don't," he pleaded.

"I'll think about it."

He grinned.

"Mudblood"

"Bedwetter," and with that, Hermione stood up, "See you in Potions"

Malfoy groaned.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: thank you chocoholic monkeyfish for those reviews. very much appreciated, i hope the rest of you are taking notes and will be kind enough to at least rate out of ten :D...well enjoy...**

**Disclaimer: same as previously.**

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**Surprisingly enough, Potions passed pretty uneventfully for most of the students. Snape appeared to be in a better mood than normal, as was apparent when he set 5 parchments worth of work on the properties of nightshade rather than the usual 10. Unfortunately for Hermione however, no one had really got over her spectacular fall at breakfast and many students had been imitating her trip quite mercilessly. Harry and Ron tried to reassure her that it wasn't that bad really, but Hermione had seen them trying to smother laughs when Fred and George had started laying into her after Potions.

"Hey Hermione!"

"You're looking fine this morning…"

"Head-bangingly fine if I say so myself"

"A few more falls like that…"

"…and you'll be a beautiful lady"

"I mean Malfoy, he was pretty taken"

"With you. But then he did trip you up."

At this point, Fred did a pretty accurate impression of Hermione strutting purposefully down the Hall and falling flat on her face. The real Hermione turned to see George doubled up and several other pupils incapacitated with laughter.

With a pained expression she turned and walked off.

"Oi Hermione!" shouted Fred, "Don't be angry – be happy – the look on Malfoy's face was priceless. You're flippin' scary sometimes – now I truly understand the phrase '_to piss your pants with fear_'"  
Hermione grinned but continued walking anyway.

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The library was quite full, but even with all the people, it was usually quite easy to spot Hermione. But, thought Ginny, she didn't seem to be here. Now that was really strange. Ginny had seen her storm in, and had naturally followed her to try and calm her down, but somehow, the girl had vanished into thin air. Scanning the crowd for the fifth time, she saw an empty space on one of the benches and decided to sit. Maybe she would have more luck if she was at a different level to everyone else.

"Psssssssst Ginny!"

The flame-haired girl looked around in vain. No-one was looking at her. Maybe she'd imagined it. She _knew_ she should have eaten more at breakfast. Her mother always said that hunger played tricks on the mind.

"Psssssssst GINNY!"

There it was again. More insistent. But who?

"Oh great. I'm going crazy," she muttered.

"GIIIINNY!"

This time something hit her leg. A book. She peered under the table.

"Hermione! What on earth are you doing!" The older girl beckoned and patted the space next to her. Ginny looked around quickly to make sure no-one was watching and then slid under the table.

"I just couldn't bear to stay out there any longer. There's only so many times you can hear the same jokes, and also, this is really hurting." Hermione pointed to the huge bruise that seemed to be spreading itself across the right side of her head. It looked incredibly painful – purple and blue with a yellow edge.

"Bloody hell Hermione," said Ginny in hushed tones, sounding so much like Ron that Hermione would have laughed – if it hadn't been for the throbbing ache.

"You should get that seen to. Seriously. It's not going to be disappearing anytime soon."

"I would," Hermione replied, "but I don't think I can stand anymore insults thrown at me. It was bad enough with Fred and George."

Ginny nodded and patted her friend's shoulder.

"Don't you worry about them," she said with a menace in her voice that hinted Madame Pomfrey would be treating a lot more bruises in the very near future, "Anyway…hold on a sec – isn't that Harry calling you?"

The two girls listened. Sure enough, Harry was calling Hermione's name. Ginny crouched and leant out of the gap between the table and bench.

"Harry! Over here!" Soon Harry's green eyes appeared over the top of the bench.

"Hermione! We've been looking for you everywhere…" His voice trailed off as he noticed her injury, "…ouchhh…" he said, and offered his hand to her, "Come on, let's get you to the hospital wing."

Hermione shook her head, and immediately regretted it, "Ughh" she moaned, holding her head in her hands.

"Harry," whispered Ginny, "she wont come out while all these people are here. You've got to get your invisibility cloak."

"But if I go, then someone else will sit here and find you…oh…hold on…Ron's here. HEY RON!"

Ron ran towards them, "Found her?"

"Yep," grinned Harry, "but you could go back to the dorm and get the coughinvisibilitycloak for me?"

"What?...oh right…" realization dawned on Ron's face and he sprinted out of the library.

"Um, excuse me, but are you sitting here?" asked a scrawny Ravenclaw boy. Harry stood up quickly.

"Y-yes I am actually." He plonked himself down. Someone poked him in the leg. He looked down.

"Er Harry"

"Yeh Hermione?"

"Um could you close your legs please?"

Harry blushed to his roots and snapped his knees together. Under the table, Ginny pouted.

"What did you do that for?" she hissed.

"Don't tell me you were looking…" Hermione wiggled her eyebrows at the red-head.

"Oh shut up Ron-lover."

"How can you say that? When have I ever given you reason to believe I liked your brother?"

"Oh I can think of many an occasion…"

"Oh yeah? Name one…"

"Oi Harry," shouted Ron, "Here it is."

The girls heard the crinkling of material and then Harry's hand appeared. Hermione took it and threw it over herself. When she was ready, Harry stood up and stuck his arm out for her to cling onto. Ginny followed and all three friends escorted an invisible Hermione out of the library and onwards to the Hospital Wing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Weeeelll - i have now finished my exams, so updates should be a little more regular...having said that...anyways - this chapter is wayyy long that any of the others. Warning: 1) Draco is out of character so dont beat me up about that please & 2)This whole fanfic is going to be epic by my standards and is not just concerned with the RHr pairing but also with other characters - it is not, how shall i say, RonHermione exclusive, but they are the main storyline...**

**enough with my babbling...please read and enjoy :) and feel free to review hint hint **

**Disclaimer: If you think I own Harry Potter and co. then why on earth would I still have to do GCSEs? sob**

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"Dearie me!" tutted Madame Pomfrey, "I wish you'd come to me sooner – honestly, this bruise is so big, I think I'll have to use Thrymheim ointment." She bustled off to the ointment cupboard. 

"Thrimhime?" asked Ron

"Thrymheim, thrymheim…where have I heard that before…something in Ancient Runes I think…oh. Oh no…" said Hermione, a look of horror creeping over her face.

"Hermione? What's wrong?"

"Thrymheim, dwelling hall of the rune Isa, meaning 'home of noise'...I have a terrible feeling that this is going to be painful…"

At that moment, Madame Pomfrey returned, clutching a jar that contained an ominous-looking yellow substance and a pair of earplugs. Noting the worried looks on their faces, she assured them, "Nothing to be anxious about – hahaha no, the effects only last a few seconds and then she'll be as right as rain."

She turned to Hermione, who looked understandably apprehensive, said, "Brace yourself dear," and proceeded to open the lid. Dipping her fingers in the jar, she smeared the ointment liberally over the bruise – ignoring Hermione's winces – jammed an earplug in each ear and stood back.

15 seconds later, Hermione's screams were still ringing though the wards, but her bruise had gone. Madame Pomfrey removed her earplugs, tossed them in the bin and ushered the patient and friends outside.

"Wow Hermione, that was...impressive," said Harry, a little too loudly.

"Yeah thanks, when I next need earwax removing I'll come straight to you," grinned Ron, rubbing his ears.

"Was I really that loud?" asked Hermione, worried, "Where's Ginny going?"

"Gonna be late to Transfiguration," shouted Ginny.

"Oh yeah," said Harry, smacking his head, "Aren't we meant to be in DADA right now?"

"Come onnn," urged Hermione, "Let's go!". She grabbed their wrists and hauled them down the corridor to their classroom.

Defence against the Dark Arts was a lot nicer than Potions for Hermione. The teasing had died down quite a bit, and after the lesson she was surprised at the number of people who came up to congratulate her for instilling fear into the heart of the Slytherins.

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After the lesson, Ginny ambled over to the trio, who were now making their way across the courtyard. She and her friend, Marguerite Rodriguez looked happy and relaxed, but Ginny had a strange glint in her eye that made Hermione and Ron wonder as to what she was up to. Harry, on the other hand, was oblivious to all life outside of the Quidditch broom catalogue that he and Oliver Wood were now drooling over. They resembled two middle-aged women cooing over a newborn baby. Except for the small difference that nobody says a baby is 'streamlined' and 'cuts through the air like a knife'. 

While Harry was being diverted, Ginny passed a package of parchment to Hermione. Hermione took it quickly and stuffed it into her bag. Ron eyed the two girls suspiciously and looked about to open his mouth and say something stupid when Hermione butted in a little tersely (but still politely) to tell him out of the corner of her mouth to "Shut it."

"But I was only asking…" he stopped as Ginny walked up to him, took him by his cloak collar and shook him roughly.

"You never saw nuffin', don't know nuffin' and if he…" she jerked her head in Harry's direction, "asks, you tuned out coz it was a girlie conversation. Goddit?"

Ron nodded vigorously, but all colour had drained from his face. Hermione gently touched his arm.

"You alright?"

"Yeah, just peachy."

"I should never have let her watch those gangster movies when she stayed with me that weekend."

"Gangster movies?"

"Yeah," said Hermione

"You mean like this…" Ron bobbed up and down and shouted, "Ahm gonna pop a cap in yo' ass" while doing wild hand gestures and grabbing his groin sporadically.

"Errrr…no…" smiled Hermione. "You done yet Harry?"

"Yup – coming…"

Ginny's stomach grumbled impatiently, "Oh hurry uppppp Harry, I'm going to die of starvation…"

"Alright, keep your hair on! You really like your food don't you? Five meals a day and all that..."

"Ah shaddap – I'm a growing girl. Come on people, or Fred and George will have eaten everything!"

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After lunch – and a double period of Transfiguration, Hermione left Harry and Ron heading for Divination, to go to her Ancient Runes 2 class. The afternoon passed quickly for all three students and soon the bell marking the end of lessons was ringing out across the school. 

Hermione was the last out of the class, as usual, before she remembered that Harry and Ron were waiting for her in the courtyard. She started picking up her pace and had just turned the corner on the last flight of stairs, when she heard someone's footfalls struggling to catch up with her. Naturally, her curiosity got the better of her and she turned to see a flushed Malfoy leaning against a wall, out of breath somewhat.

"You don't half walk fast for a know-it-all," he panted

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well I figured the combined weight of half the library in your arms and an enormous brain would hinder you slightly."

Hermione stared at Draco. As insults went, his had always been cruel and barbed, but that one almost sounded like a compliment.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"Err no as it happens," said Draco, "That's the reason why I ran after you."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. This was certainly turning into an interesting day.

"Um what exactly is the problem Malfoy?"

"I'm in love," he replied simply.

Whatever Hermione had been expecting, it definitely had not been that.

"With Ron" he smiled – noticing Hermione's face, he continued, "Nah – I jest. With Ginny."

Hermione's face remained in the same expression – slack jaw, wide eyes – the Universal face of 'SHOCK HORROR'.

"OK, OK, please don't look at me like that. I'm not in love. I repeat, _not in love. _At least I don't think I am, because that would be pretty bad for me – what would it doooooo to my sick, bitter, twisted, burnt little heart."

"Draco"

"Mmhmmm?"

"Then what IS the matter?"

"Oh…the matter…yes. Well you know Pansy Parkinson sorta gave you the Evil Eye this morning at breakfast? Well I heard from Blaise, who heard from Crabbe. Who heard from Goyle, but who told Crabbe not to tell Blaise because then he would get killed by Flint who told him, but Flint was told by Millicent who overheard Snape, who was talking about how he had heard Theo Nott saying that Pansy Parkinson was planning something involving Love potions to make you fart constantly, give you warts and chest hair and stubble."

Hermione was looking at him with an amused expression.

"You sounded just like Ron then."

Malfoy looked horrified and clutched his chest as though in agony.

"That was cruel, oh how that pains meeee," he moaned.

Hermione laughed.

"So what made you come and tell me? Normally wouldn't you just wait and watch the show?"

Draco looked puzzled. "I'm not all that sure really. I mean I have been having a strange time recently, what with my parents divorcing-" Hermione looked at him quizzically. Draco ploughed on, "My mother, she's um pregnant, and my father didn't want anymore children. So he filed for divorce. And he doesn't understand how lonely it is without any siblings coz he's always out somewhere 'working' and Mum's always asleep or visiting her sister and…" he looked embarrassed, "…all I do is sit around in an empty house and they don't _care_," he looked up from staring at the floor, "So now I cant live at home because I cant stand the arguing and shouting, but luckily Blaise is letting me stay at his house. But you see – I never realized he's got such a big family and it made me think that maybe…" he paused, blushing slightly, "There might be…" he blushed even darker, "more to people who I thought I hated. Like maybe being a lonely, only, spoilt heir to the Malfoy name is, well, a bit rubbish."

A Slytherin prefect stormed past and Draco ducked behind a pillar. After the prefect had gone he emerged warily, "Got to be a bit careful though." He bit his lip, "still got to keep up my reputation and all that."

Hermione looked at him, "I find it hard to believe that your parent's divorce would change you so dramatically – it's still really freaky hearing nice things coming from your mouth. Are you sure no-one dropped something in your pumpkin juice while your back was turned?"

The blonde haired boy scratched his head thinking," Hmmmm...oh wait! Yeh there was! After breakfast I was walking back to the Common Room when suddenly those Weasley twins jumped out from behind a statue and grabbed me. I think they tied me up coz I couldn't move. Then I'm not really sure what happened because I was awake, but I hadn't been asleep…"

He frowned, "...and they released me and they were saying something like 'we're gonna beat some sense into you – Malfoy scum' – and then it went black. When I woke up I was lying in the corridor, aching all over and I had this feeling – well – I don't know what exactly. Just a feeling that something had changed. Maybe they really did beat some sense into me!"

He grinned - the first proper smile to grace his face that Hermione had ever seen.

"Well thanks for warning me about Parkinson,"

A movement in her peripheral vision seemed familiar –

"Isn't the Zabini over there?" she asked.

"Where?"

"Over by that knight."

"Ah, so it is…bye Hermione!"

Hermione gave a little wave and watched the Slytherin boy disappear after his friend until his shouts of "OI! Blaise! Hey! Slow down you long-legged freak!" faded into the distance.

Hermione looked slightly dazed as she walked the last few metres to the courtyard. In her experience, Slytherins were people to be avoided unless you absolutely had no choice but to grunt something at them. It was funny that the Weasley twins had had a hand in reforming Draco's character. She supposed they must have used Veritaserum on him – which would explain his feeling of being awake but not having slept, and of course it would explain why Fred had shouted "Now I truly understand the phrase '_to piss your pants with fear_'" (A/N chapter 4)

The sky was blue and clear, and the sun was beating down onto the square of grass where she found Harry and Ron waiting for her.

"You took your time," said Harry. He had discarded his tie and heavy cloak, and had unbuttoned the collar of his shirt. Ron was similarly undressed, and both were lying back against the grass, watching her with amused smiles. She plomped herself down in front of them, forming a rough triangle, and wrenched off her own cloak.

"You know something," she said, pulling a the blades of grass between her fingers, "I can't wait for tomorrow – first day of summer uniforms"

"Hell yeah," agreed Ron, "It's going to be one hot summer huh?"

His cheeks had a pink tinge to them and Hermione noticed his freckles were already a lot darker than normal. Ron noticed her gaze and looked up from the pebble that he had been playing with. She quickly looked away, a flipping sensation in her stomach making itself known, not knowing why she felt like she shouldn't be staring at her friend. Ron looked slightly disappointed that she had turned her head so quickly.

Harry sat up a bit and asked, "Do you think old Trelawney would mind if we skipped all our lessons from now on?"

Ron nodded, "Well I think she would if she actually knew who I was, but as for you, it wouldn't work. She predicts your death practically every lesson, so yes – she'd mind alright."

"Yeah - if she was really good at divination you'd think she'd know where Harry was and hunt him down," added Hermione.

"Purlease – she can't even see past her own nose. It's a wonder she even manages to find her way to class every morning, let alone be able to find where Harry would be hiding."  
"Hmph"

"What was it she did today Harry?"

"Oh yeah. Strides up ranting "Seamus m'boy, I foresee death! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh the death, the pestilence, your veins are runneth through with the icy chill of Dooooooom, the Grim Reaper…oh!.. he is calling you name…Alas poor child do not cry – he will come for us all one daaaaay…"

"It would have been pretty scary you know – she was doing her trembling hands and rolling eyes…"

"Yeah would've been terrifying…"

"…if she hadn't been talking to a pillar..heeheeee"

All three laughed hysterically as Harry did some uncannily good impressions of the Divinations Professor. Ron caught Hermione staring at him again but this time she held his gaze causing him to blush a deep red, before proceeding to cross his eyes at her.

"So what were you talking to Malfoy about Hermione?" asked Harry innocently.

"Ron! Ron!" exclaimed Hermione, shaking the boy's shoulders, "He's gone all psychic on us!"

"Nah"

"Whaddya mean 'nah'?"

"We saw you talking to him before we came here…" The two boys stuck out their tongues at her.

"You little sneaks!" said Hermione indignantly, "You really expect me to tell you now that I know you were spying on me the whole time?"

"Oh pweeeease Hermi-oh-neeee…pwetty pwease with a cherry on top? And pwetty dancing men? Pwetty naked dancing men?"

Ron hit Harry at that remark.

"What?" grinned Harry, knowing full well what 'what' was.

"Oh alright, now you put it like that," relented Hermione, "He was warning me about something Pansy Parkinson's planning to do to me."

"Planning to do to _you_?"

"Uh-huh"

"You didn't set fire to her again…did you?"

"Of course not! Like I would do such a thing!"

"Whatever"

"As a matter of fact she was jealous of me getting Draco's full attention this morning"

"You're not serious"

"No really. She's planning to give me a love potion with a difference – a fart-inducer, wart-grower, testosterone-booster sort of thing"

"…and?"

"What are you insinuating!"

"That it won't make much of difference…"

"RON!"

"Argh! You know I'm kidding…no please! Not the book! Please 'Mione! Ouch! Don't just stand there Harry…STOP HER!"

"I'd rather snog Professor Snape"

"You wot! Bloody Hell Hermione, I TAKE IT BACK! I TAKE IT BACK!"

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**I request only your patience, your time, your attention and your reviews (adoring or otherwise)**  



	6. Chapter 6

**Phewwwwwww - this is my longest chapter yet and _man_ did it take long to type up (not just because I'm reeeeeeeeealllyyy slow at typing but because I can be exceptionally lazy when it comes to typing up and tend to procrastinate over it as much as possible...). I have a feeling - as with the other chapters - that it doesn't quite flow as much as I want it to, and Seamus-fans, I am so sorry for making him like this - he was just the only character I could actually envisage acting in this way. If you really hate him being like this then feel free to substitute another person's name for his...  
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**Disclaimer: Of course I'm not JKRowling and of course I don't any Harry Potter characters - the only character I own in this fanfic is Marguerite Rodriguez of Chapter 5.**

* * *

At supper, Ginny and the Weasley twins joined Harry, Ron and Hermione, and they all spent a long time chatting and joking before heading up to the Common Room, to finish homework (or to start it, in Ron's case). Now though, Harry and Ron had joined the other boys in their dorm and were starting to get ready for bed. 

Neville sat by the window next to his bed, tending a small plant and oblivious to a clearly Hyper Seamus Finnegan, who was jumping up and down on Neville's mattress.

"Oi Dean!" he yelled in his Irish brogue – even though Dean was only half a metre away.

"Who d'you think is the hottest out of Ginny and Marguerite?"

Dean glanced nervously at a murderous-looking Ron, muttered something about needing to brush his teeth and scurried out.

"Well I think Ginny is definitely hotter, one heck of an arse your sister's got mate, s'like pwwwwoargh man, get a load of that init?" shouted Seamus at Ron.

Ron got up from where he had been crouched packing away his chess set, and walked over to Seamus.

"Say that again," he said through gritted teeth, "And I'll _kill_ you."

Next moment, Seamus was sprawled on the floor, looking slightly dazed.

"Woah there Ron," said Harry, holding back his friend's arm. Seamus pulled himself up and walked slowly towards Ron, who was now wrenching himself out of Harry's grasp. "Ron! I said stop it! Control yourself!"

"Ginny's got a nice arse, Ginny's got a nice body, Ginny's got nice ti.." sang Seamus.

Next moment he was back getting reacquainted with the floor, having been on the receiving end of Harry's punch. Ron was staring at Harry as if he'd just sprouted another head. Harry shrugged as if to say 'you-got-a-problem-with-that?' and Ron replied with a look that said 'we-shall-talk-about-this-later'. Seamus looked from the red-head to the brunette and piped up, "Are we gonna get on with this fight or not?"

In reply Harry and Ron threw themselves on top of him.

5 minutes later, Dean walked in. Skirting the flailing arms and legs he hurried over to a worried-looking Neville.

"Neville, what's going on?"

"I dunno Dean, I looked up and suddenly they were fighting."

"I expect it was something to do with Ginny."

"Hmmmm I 'spose…d'you think we ought to stop them?"

They looked at the heap of boys. Shouts of "EXPELLIARMUS!", "RICTUM SEMPRA!", "TANTALLEGRA!" and "TAKE THAT YOU BASTARD!" were ringing through the air.

"Looks a bit dangerous to me," said Dean.

They stood for a while longer before Neville exclaimed suddenly, "The bucket!"

Dean sprang into action, diving into Ron's wardrobe and pulling out a huge silvery grey bucket. The two boys ran to the Bathrooms and were back a few seconds later, lugging the bucket behind them.

"3, 2, 1…" whispered Neville and then they flipped the bucket over, dumping ice-cold water on the wrestling boys. For a moment all three stopped and gasped, and Neville and Dean became hopeful – but alas, the fighting resumed. Neville looked like he might cry. He turned to Dean, and said, "I've had enough."

He stepped carefully into the centre of the room, opened his mouth and screamed, "STOPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPPP IIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIITTT!" They stopped, just as someone began to knock on the door.

"It's open…" shouted Dean. Two sleepy-looking redheads peered round the doorframe.

"Whaaat is Merlin going on peoples ashleepin…peoples ashleep in peoples shleeped…a people gone shlept…yeh…"slurred Fred groggily.

All the boys looked guiltily at each other. Except one.

"Oh my gawwwd – you guys sleep at the same time!" squawked Dean.

"Wesh no guys when you is a pink rabbit…ooohhhh baybbeeeeee…"

George rolled his eyes at his twin and taking Fred by the shoulders began to shake him vigorously.

"I'M AWAKE I'M AWAKE!"

"At long flippin' last," muttered George.

"Dean – in answer to your question…"

"…we go to the bed at the same time in our…"

"…matching pyjammy-wammys…"

"…clutching out teddy bears…"

"…sucking our ickle-wickle thumbsie-wumbsies and dreaming of being…"

"…Head Boys."

Harry looked at Ron incredulously, and Ron winked. Ah. That was ok then.

Dean looked astonished, "Wooooooooow," he said in an awed whisper. Now it was Ron's turn to look astonished. "Did you honestly believe that!"

Dean looked hurt.

"Oh Dean," George said sadly, "How could you? I am insulted…"

"…yeah," chimed in Fred, "Offended to the very depths of my soul. Ok so we do sleep at the same time. But as you have seen I sleep like a log and he sleeps like a feather…" he pointed at George.

"But at least I don't snore," George retorted.

"We both sleep in these…" Fred indicated the matching sets of pyjamas, "…but we definitely don't clutch teddies. Not like someone else we know coughRoncough"

"Oh and just for the record we don't suck our thumbs or dream of being a poncey twit like our _dear_ brother Percy."

"We have much, much better dreams. Often involving girls…"

"…and poles…" They both grinned widely.

"Oh I had one of them," said Neville dreamily

"NEVILLE!"

Neville looked up to see six scandalised faces staring at him.

"Our little boy is growing up…" said Fred wiping fake tears from his eyes with a finger.

Neville threw a pillow at him, but Fred ducked and the pillow landed in the water that was still on the floor.

"Why is there water on the floor?" asked George, "Were you trying to teach Seamus how to swim?"

"I can swim," protested Seamus, as the others began to clear up the mess.

"Oh really?" said Ron, "Shall we throw you in the lake and watch you do your front crawl then?"

"Crawl? I said I could swim not do baby stuff…Hermione-lover…"  
In the silence that followed all eyes turned to Ron.

"I…she…I never…how did…what've you got against her? Huh?" he spluttered. Seeing another fight beginning to brew, Dean ushered Ron away to where the twins were wringing out the carpet.

"You'd best all get to bed – we don't want anymore spats tonight…it's not even night anymore – 'tis 1am! You stupid, stupid people…go to sleep!"

With that the twins dropped the now dry carpet on the floor and stormed out.

* * *

Next morning, Hermione noted with a heavy heart that faces were even more ashen with fatigue than the previous day. 

"Erm, hi guys," she said, trying not to sound too cheerful.

"Hi Hermione," replied Harry shooting her a grimace (she hoped it was meant to be a smile). Ron just grunted, and continued glaring at a dazed-looking Seamus who was wolfing down porridge oats and handfuls of baked beans. The Irish boy was sporting a black eye and Hermione saw that Ron was clenching and unclenching bloodied knuckles.

"Ron!" she gasped, to the consternation of the twins, who had just nodded off. Ron looked at her.

"Eh?"

"Let me see you hands."

He looked at her.

"Hands. Attached to you arms and your fingers." She held hers up. Ron nodded and grasped her hand pumping it up and down.

"Pleased to meet you"

"No Ronald, show me your _hands_." He pointed between his legs.

"Arghhh." She grabbed his hands and examined the knuckles. Ron seemed to have woken up somewhat and now had a goofy smile spread across his face. Hermione whipped out her wand, muttered something and the blood and grazes vanished.

"Wow, thanks 'Mione – d'you think you could fix up Harry too?"

Harry looked up at Hermione's raised eyebrows.

"And just what were you all doing last night that left you battle-scarred and weary this morning?"

"Urrr, last night we had a little scuffle. Is all."

"Scuffle…as in _fight_?"

At the mention of the F-word, the Hall went strangely silent. Luckily for Harry it was at that moment that the owls arrived.

"It was about Ginny," he whispered as packages rained down on the table. Hermione looked a little startled.

"Just, you know, Seamus was being all dirty and so me and Ron – well we had to sort him out you see and…"

"Harry?"

"Oh, hi Ginny, you alright?"

"Yeh I'm fine…oh my gosh…what happened to you? You haven't been _fighting_ have you?"

All conversation stopped. Someone coughed and was furiously shushed by a prefect.

"Oh nooo…I wouldn't resort to violence…I walked into the door actually, didn't know what I was doing." He rose and began to make his way out, trying not to make his escape obvious.

"I was still quite sleepy…" he stalled – several people had miraculously appeared and were blocking the exit, "…and I was really not with it, and before I knew it BLAM there was a door in front of me…"

He was at the door; all that stood between him and freedom was a vicious-looking first year. Sadly for Harry, first-years have a reputation for clinging to any scrap of gossip they can lay their hands on – if he thought he could get out easily, he was mistaken.

Harry tried dodging, he tried barging, he even tried the 'oh-look-I-see-a-blue-monster-dancing-with-Professor-McGonagall-right-behind-you' trick – but to no avail. In the end, he was left with no choice but to pick the first year up, place them to the side and do a runner. Which he did, leaving the shouts of "OH MY GAWWWWD HARRY POTTER _TOUCHED_ MEEE…" and the sound of a melodramatic first year fainting behind him.

* * *

The day passed in a blur, and before anyone realised, lunchtime arrived. Hermione had suggested they eat outside and had nicked some sandwiches from the Great Hall for them. Ron had been right about it being a hot summer, and everyone seemed grateful for the short-sleeved shirts and lighter cloaks that constituted the summer uniform. Harry munched on his sandwich thoughtfully, scanning the Daily Prophet for Quidditch articles. Hermione was teaching Ron to make daisy chains and in the distance you could see Dumbledore turning cartwheels, to enthusiastic cheers of 'Who da man? Who da man who come before? He da man! He one and only Dumbledore!' 

"He's quite athletic for his age isn't he," commented Harry.

"Well how old is he?"

"No idea."

"Can't imagine him as a baby…" Hermione giggled.

Seamus walked past and looked at Ron pointedly. Noticing Hermione, he winked and sat down on her left.

"Hi Hermione!"

"Er…hi Seamus."

Ron looked at Harry as though begging him to strangle Seamus with his newspaper. Harry shrugged and continued reading.

"So what are you doing with this moron?" asked Seamus.

"Who's a moron? Ron?"

"Yeah! It's even got his name in it – Mor-Ron"

Hermione laughed politely.

"He's not a moron."

"Well he's not exactly an Adonis is he?" Seamus flexed his muscles casually.

Hermione spluttered. "Excuuuse me?"

"Well just look at him – gangly, lanky, red-head…"

"I happen to think he looks fine as he is."

"Oh I'm sure you do, especially if you knew what he says in his sleep…"

Harry looked up and mouthed "NO!" at Seamus. Seamus took this as his cue to continue.

"He says someone's name in his sleep, he does."

Ron had been steadily getting more and more agitated, and was clenching his fists angrily.

"It's a girl's name…"

Ron jumped to his feet. "Shut UP!" he growled.

"Oooh touchy-touchy."

Ron struck Seamus across the jaw. Seamus was undeterred and closed his eyes were he lay, mimicking Ron asleep.

"Mmmmm…Hermione…ohhh Hermione…"

Hermione snapped her head round to see a stunned Ron looking about to cry. Seamus laughed.

"Don't think we couldn't hear you."

That did it. Ron spun around and sprinted off. _How could he? How **could** he?_ Hot tears pricked his eyes. _The little bastard_. He kept running even back inside the school. Madame Pince stuck her head round the door as he passed the library and threatened to have him expelled. He couldn't care less. Not now. Somehow he kept running and was soon out of the school grounds. Eventually he could no longer ignore his aching legs and slowed down to a walk to take in his surroundings. The school looked quite tiny in the distance. Ahead of him lay deserted countryside and he knew that if he kept walking for a bit longer he would find Hogsmeade. He saw the ridge of trees where last year he, Seamus, Harry and Dean had discovered a stash of Fred and George's pranks. At the thought of Seamus, Ron's blood boiled and he channeled all his anger into his wand. Hand shaking, he screamed the first spell he could think of and pointed at the trees.

"WINGARDIUM LEVIOSA!"

White light spurted out of the wand tip in the direction of the trees. Spell finished, Ron continued walking, rage still filling him up. He felt a little stupid to have cast a spell so furiously – he could have hit someone. He hurried down to the trees and out the other side. _Phew_. There was no-one in sight, bar a couple of cows. He carried on jogging down through the fields, passing Hogsmeade, and the small farm. It was only when he reached the hill where he and Hermione had found a miserable Harry one Christmas, that he looked back.

_Wow. What a view_. Stretched out in front of him were beautiful, picturesque cottages. He could see Hogsmeade directly below him and various farm animals dotted about in fields of emerald green. Over the ridge of trees, he could make out the spires and turrets of Hogwarts, and the figure of Hagrid chucking suicidal fish back into the Lake.

"Maybe I'll just stay here and never go back," he said dreamily, as he basked in the sun. His line of vision rested on the slope of the hill and he noticed a red-faced farmer at the bottom. Squinting at him, Ron could make out a pair of wild-looking eyes under a straw hat, and a large mouth that was shouting something repeatedly. Ron strained his ears – something about a cow… "What…what…is he doing with my cow…" A second person appeared with black hair and green eyes. The shouting got louder, but more muddled. Ron made out a few words: "Daisy", "prize cow", "Dumbledore will pay, "all churned up", "Young people today".

He was distracted from the argument by a faint mooing overhead. Ron looked up at the sky, where Daisy was floating, contentedly turning somersaults in the air.

"Oh shit," he muttered.

* * *

Hermione surveyed the two sweaty, panting boys before her. Ron was clinging to the door frame in a desperate attempt to stay upright and Harry was slumped against the wall. 

"I saved your arses you know," she placed her hands on her hips and continued, "You're lucky that I told them a long story about how Harry had lost his wand and you both had to find it urgently. You could've both been expelled for bunking off those lessons and if anyone had not believed me then I'm sure they'd have found you out."

Harry and Ron grunted.

"You owe me big time" she said glowering, "I would've thought you could be a little more grateful."

Harry rolled his eyes, "Fine then my lady, here have some cheese." He reached into the bag beside him and tossed her two kilos of freshly made cheddar. Hermione stared at him.

"You want me to be more grateful? Ok then, catch…" He threw two more lumps of cheese in her direction, "As an expression of our thankfulness and deepest gratitude, and humblest and sincerest gratefulness…" he lobbed a third chunk that narrowly missed Hermione's head, "…please accept these bovine gifts, courtesy of Daisy."

He kissed his fingers, growled, "Bon appetit…" and stalked out of the door.

"He's just a little angry…" began Ron apologetically, "I'm sure he'll calm down soon – don't think badly of him pleeeeearrrrrggghhh..." he screeched as Harry grabbed his collar and yanked him away.

Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table on her own. All around her people were tucking into supper with gusto, but she couldn't bring herself to eat anything. She had somehow managed to get through the other lessons without showing her misery too much. Ron had been shooting her 'don't-worry-it'll-be-fine' glances, but Harry had consistently ignored her through the whole of Transfiguration. And History of Magic. And Care of Magical Creatures. She sighed. The cheese was still lying underneath her bed. She wondered if she'd be able to palm it off on the twins to experiment with. But what would they do with it? Cheese sculptures? Cheese disguised as cats? Extract the innate cheesiness, bottle it and sell it as 'Ultimate Chat-up Line Essence'? Oooh, the possibilities were endless.

"Ahem." Someone sat down beside her.

"AH-EM"

Hermione supposed they wanted to talk to her. Turning in her seat she looked at the rude intruder to her thoughts.

"Harry!"

She flung her arms around him, "Oh I'm so sorry…"

"It's ok Hermione. I'm sorry for losing my temper."

He patted her absentmindedly on the head, "Now how about you make a nice cheese sandwich for me and Ron here. I'm famished."

"Oh! Ron's here too?"

"Yes…but cheese sandwich…"

"Where is he?"

Harry sighed. "Ron!"

Ron's head popped out from behind Harry.

"You called?"

Hermione flung her arms around Ron's neck.

"Oh, Ron! I'm so sorry!"

"Um…it's ok…" replied Ron, the tips of his ears glowing pink.

Harry looked at him and mimed hugging someone, as Ron's arms hung limply by his sides. Ron gulped and gingerly placed his arms around Hermione, who was gabbling.

"I was so worried about you two, and I thought _you_ were angry with me too and are you sure it's ok with you I mean you took it very well compared to Harry and the cheese tastes quite good actually, I tried a little bit and I hit Seamus for making you angry…"

"Shhhh 'Mione it's ok…hush…stop wittering – oh was that why he had another black eye – Hermione…sit down! Ginny's mouthing 'awww' at me…"

Eventually Hermione sat down, but almost immediately sprang up again, smacking a palm against her forehead.

"Ah dammit! I knew I forgot something…" she dashed off in the direction of the library, "…see you later guys!"

"Ron," began Harry hopefully, "You look like a good cook…"

But Ron wasn't listening.

"Ohhh crap! Potions essay!" he jumped up and ran off shouting, "Sorry Harry, I'll be in the common room…"

Sitting alone at a near-deserted table, with the face of an abandoned puppy, Harry whispered forlornly, "…cheese…sandwich...?"

* * *

**Hope it lived up to expectations :) thank you very much for your wonderful reviews - ChocoholicMonekyfish, Cat4Dan207, lifeisawsome89, Invaderk, HarryandGinnyRonandHermione, pianaEH, ronandmionealways...feedback is relished and appreciated and cherished and yarrrrr...keep it up people!**

**Just a note: I forgot to say thank you to Ruarik Grimnisson (although I'm not sure this site is his thing) and his great book Rune Rede, which is where I got the whole Thrymheim thing of last chapter.**


	7. Chapter 7

**Here it is...CHAPTER 7! waheyyyyyyy!  
**

**A little note: "Baby you belong to me..." and "Golden Summer" are my own 'songs' - in the broadest sense of the word... oh and be warned, swearing follows these statements...  
**

**Disclaimer: Harry Potter, Ron, Hermione et al - property of JK Rowling... Stupid plotlines - MINE!  
**

* * *

Moonlight was flooding into Hermione's dormitory through a chink in the heavy curtains. From her bed, she could see the light fall onto the faces of her sleeping companions and just touch the whiskers of a snoozing Crookshanks. Apart from the sound of breathing and Crookshanks' contented purring, there was silence. Unusually for her, Hermione was having problems sleeping - she had been sitting on her bed for about an hour and was fed up. Maybe she should go down to the Common Room and see if there were any insomniacs around. Hopping off her bed she tiptoed across the dormitory floor and slipped out onto the landing. The stone steps down to the Common Room were a little cold to her bare feet, but as it was summer she'd left her slippers at the foot of her bed. As she neared the Common Room entrance, Hermione heard voices in a low murmur and – was that laughter? Curious, she poked her head through the door. At first, she couldn't see anybody, but as she slowly entered, she could make out several Gryffindors sitting cross-legged in the middle of the carpet. In the dim light, she thought she could Harry and Ron, chattering with a handful of other boys. She moved a little closer to the circle and was spotted by George Weasley. 

"Oi Hermione!" Hermione jumped about a foot into the air, "Wanna come and join us?"

"What are you all doing?"

"Truth or Dare – Weasley-style." He wiggled his eyebrows, "Ginny's just gone to get you, but seeing as you're here already, please take a seat." He gestured towards a space between Fred and Dean.

"Um, I'm not really sure I want to play…"

"Ah just shut up and sit down – look – Ginny's back."

Ginny was indeed back and was now wedging herself in between Ron and Neville. Hermione gave up trying to protest and went to sit in her space. As they waited for Fred to finish casting a "Choosus Randomus" charm (his words, not Hermione's) on an empty bottle, Hermione took a chance to observe the various pyjama styles everyone was modeling.

Ginny was wearing her usual blue things, Harry had his black top and shorts, Neville and Dean were wearing Quidditch tops and shorts, and Fred and George were wearing big sleeveless t-shirts and baggy trousers. She had saved Ron 'til last because she didn't want to burn her eyes until she absolutely had to. For Ron had not known there were going to be girls, and had run downstairs in his "casual nightclothes" - i.e. he was wearing the same baggy trousers as the twins, but he had a _very_ bare chest (it was summer after all). Hermione tried extremely hard not to stare too much at the muscles and the smattering of freckles on his skin.  
Fred had finished the charm and was now making an amused face in her direction. She glared at him.

"'K, well now Hermione's with us, let's begin…"

He placed the bottle in the centre of the circle and sat back. It began to spin - quite lazily at first, but it quickly picked up speed until it was almost a blur. Then all of a sudden it stopped and pointed itself at Harry.

"Ohohoho!" cackled Fred, "Truth or dare matey?"

Harry looked terrified. "Errrm…"

If he picked Truth then **argh**, if he picked Dare then **argh**. Stoopid rotten Weasleys.

"Err…Dare…"

He saw Dean whisper something in Neville's ear, and then Neville beckon Fred towards him. Fred nodded as Neville spoke quietly, obviously taking pleasure in Harry's squirming.

"Ok Harry, it has been decided…we command you to _belly-dance_ on top of the table while singing 'Oh baby you belong to me'…"

Harry winced. "Ah well... could've been worse," he said unconvincingly.

He got up onto the table, hitched up his t-shirt and began to wiggle his hips.

"Oh babyyyy you belong to meee, I got you in a cage, you can't get freee…" he shook his bum a bit and hopped down, his dare finished.

Ron was almost crying and Neville, Dean and Ginny were clutching their sides. George gave him a thumbs-up and indicated the bottle. Harry pointed his wand at it and said, "Choosus!"

Almost immediately the bottle spun to a halt in front of Neville.

"Neviiiiille, Truth or Dare?"

Neville bit his lip. "Truth."

Ginny looked pleased – now _this_ was her speciality.

"Ok Neville. On November 19th last year, at 14:02 pm, you disappeared from the Gryffindor Common Room."

Neville had gone pink.

Ginny continued, "Where did you go, who with, and what happened exactly?"

"Hold on a second," protested Neville, "That's _three_ questions."

Ginny smiled. "This is also WEASLEY-STYLE Truth or Dare."

"Yeh," chimed in Ron, "And believe me, the forfeits are a lot worse."

"Ok, ok, I went to the Forbidden Forest…"

"Yehhhh…"

"Um…with…um…Luna Lovegood…"

"And what did you do?"

"Kissing," he buried his face in his hands, "But you can't tell anyone k? We wanted it to be a secret."

"Don't worry mate, nothing leaves this circle," said George, patting him on the back.

This time, the bottle landed on Hermione.

"Ah, Miss. Granger."

"Yup."

"Truth or Dare?"

"Are there any other options?"

Fred ticked them off on his fingers, "Double dare, love, kiss, hate…"

"Uh…dare…"

"Oooh risky, Miss. Granger, risky…"

"Shut up."

"Hmmm let's see…who hasn't suggested anything…oh that would be me," Fred grinned, "Aha, a true Weasley-dare…you gotta eat marshmallows off Harry's back."

"Wot!" cried Harry and Hermione in unison.

"I've already done a dare," complained Harry.

Fred continued, ignoring both of them, "And she's gotta wear a blindfold…"

Ron's face had gone pink and he was looking at his brother with narrowed eyes that said 'I'll-get-you-for-this-later'

And true to form, after Hermione had eaten the marshmallows, the blindfold removed, the bottle spun and Fred chosen, Ron did 'get-him'.

"Fred, _I_ get to choose your dare."

Fred looked a little worried, "Er ok – be nice – we are brothers after all."

"Brothers, crothers, smothers – yah, yah, whatever. Get naked, run down the corridors screaming 'I love you Millicent Bulstrode' and we're even."

"Even! Naked! Ron, oh sweet merciful Ron…"

"Do it."

Fred did, and the size of his you-know-what was the topic of discussion for many months after the incident.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was whistling. He didn't know what tune exactly, but it was a nice tune all the same. He continued whistling and sauntering until he happened upon Hermione and Ginny in quiet discussion. Once he reached them he said a chirpy "Mornin' 'Mione" and a "Hi Ginny" and carried on whistling away into the distance. 

"My, Hagrid's lost weight. And height. But why did he have blonde hair?" asked Ginny, concerned.

"Ginny... that was _Malfoy_."

"Oh."

* * *

It had been a long day, thought Hermione. Especially since they'd been up so late playing Truth or Dare. Well, she supposed, it had certainly been interesting. She'd found out a lot of things abut her friends, and seen more of them than ever before. Especially Fred. Heheheheh. Now though, she wanted a nice cool shower before she joined the others. Wherever they were. 

The shower room was a lot bigger than it appeared at first, and yet it was not a room that made Hermione feel small at all. She selected a cubicle and hung her towel up inside the door. The cubicle had a small area at the front, which was where a locker inscribed with 'H.G.' stood. Hermione unlocked the locker with one hand and with the other locked the cubicle door. She began to undress and placed her clothes and shoes in the locker. Next she took out two bottles of brightly coloured liquid, making sure she securely locked the locker itself. Grabbing the bottles she walked into the shower, which was separated from the dry area by a long curtain.

Placing her wand into a holder fastened to the wall, Hermione turned on the water and let her mind wander. It chose to wander down a path that she had been trying to avoid for hmmm…about four years. As the image of Ron's chest popped up in her mind once again, she found herself feeling strangely happy.

Ron was walking down to the boy's shower room. It had been a long, tiring day, but he was quite pleased that Hermione had not brought up the whole 'Seamus incident'. In fact, he had caught her staring at him a bit more than usual. Another couple of years and he might finally be able to tell her how he felt. The route to the showers took him past the girl's shower room. Someone was singing. He strained his ears. Whoever it was had a pretty good voice. The song sounded familiar.

"Silver midsummer moon

Floating against the mountains

Filling up the sky

Take me with you, hold me tight

I want to hold the sunbeams in your eyes

Kiss you good, kiss you right

Kiss you forever

My golden summer…"

Ah yes. Sounded like an Emerald Imps song. What was it called...? Oh. Duh…Golden Summer. He noticed that he had stopped outside the Girls Shower Room entrance to listen to the girl singing. A few Hufflepuffs walked past and looked at him strangely. He wondered if this was a weird thing to do.

As she sang, Hermione thought about Ron. She thought about his chest (surprise, surprise) and his stomach, and the little freckles on his skin, and his laughter. She was in such deep thought that she barely saw the soap on the floor, and when she did see it, she was lying flat on her back.

"Yeowch!" she yelped as pain soared up her ankle. Sitting up, she examined the place where the agony was coming from. To her horror, her right ankle was almost twice the size of her left, and was throbbing ominously.

"Oh fuck…" she muttered, and stopped. When had she started swearing? This was odd – Ron usually cursed enough for Harry and herself alone, but Hermione?

"DAMN YOU RONALD WEASLEY!" she shouted at the top of her lungs, and then, without warning, shards of pain shot up her leg again.

"Aaaaaaaaaarrrrghhhhhhhh!" she screamed.

"Damn me? What have I done this time?" asked Ron to no-one in particular, "Hold on a sec…is that Hermione in there? In pain?"

As the second cry of anguish echoed out into the corridor, Ron raced into the shower rooms.

"'Mione! 'Mione – are you ok?" he dashed into the first cubicle – it was empty.

"Ron! What the hell are you doing?"

"Trying to find you and take you to Madame Pomfrey."

"But…"

"What cubicle are you in?"

"7…but Ron…wait!"

"Uh?"

"I'm well, you know, naked?"

"You what? Oh…oh my…" Ron dashed out of Number 7 closely followed by a bar of soap.

"Chuck me a towel will you?"

"Um...sure…"

"Hmhmhmhm…ok you can come back in now."

"Er. Right." Timidly, he walked back in, to see a very wet Hermione – in a towel this time – sitting on the floor and clutching a severely swollen ankle.

"Yeeesh that looks painful"

"You don't say."

"Do you think you can stand?"

"I can try I suppose, but the floor is slippy and I don't want my towel to fall down."

"I wouldn't mind if it did…" mumbled Ron, ears pink.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"So what should I do?" wailed Hermione.

"Right…um…first…give me a minute…" Ron whipped off his black hoodie and handed it to her, "Here, wear this."

Hermione pulled it on, trying not to get it too wet.

"Thanks Ron. Could you pass me my wand?"

"Is it in this thing?" he tapped the wand holder.

"Yup"

"There you go."

"Thanks. Accio knickers." No knickers came.

"ACCIO KNICKERS" repeated Hermione, "What's going on?"

"Where are your knickers? In your room?"

"Please! You think I came down here with no underwear?"

"Maybe?"

"Don't be stupid."

"So where _are_ they?"

Realisation dawned on Hermione's face.

"Oh. In my locker. And it's locked."

"I'll go unlock it."

Ron disappeared. Hermione sat, praying he wouldn't see them or wouldn't touch them. He returned holding a plain black bra and knickers, and wearing a stupid grin.

"RON!" Hermione blushed scarlet.

"Hermione calm down! I live with two women and I have had to wash their clothes sometimes. It's no big deal."

Hermione looked at him accusingly. "Then why are you grinning like that?"

"Er oh um yes that would be because I remembered you were singing an Emerald Imps song before and I never knew you liked them – never really talked about music before with you…" _…and the fact that I holding underwear that belongs to the girl of my dreams_, he added silently.

"Yes well I always liked them ever since the first time I heard them. Could you turn around for a minute?"

"Yeah…sure…"

Hermione stifled a laugh – Ron looked quite flustered.

"So, 'Mione, what other bands do you like?"

"The Weird Sisters..."

"Yup, snap – what else?"

"Hm…John Dee and the Alchemists, Unicorn Conspiracy and the Frogspawn. How 'bout you?"

"Well I like those as well, but I really also like the Midnight Pixies."

"Oh yeah, that lead singer's voice is incredible – you can turn around now by the way."

Ron span around, "K let's get you to the hospital wing."

"Um, but my trousers…"

"You want to risk scraping that thing!" he asked incredulously, pointing at the throbbing lump that had one been Hermione's ankle.

"I just feel – well - exposed I guess."

"OK then. Let me go get 'em."

After several attempts on both Ron and Hermione's part to gently tug the trousers up over her legs, they gave up.

" 'Mione, how much do you love these trousers?"

Hermione looked at the worn green combats and sighed, "Alright, take them, but be gentle…"

"I will," he replied. True to his word he gently traced a line under the knee of the trousers with his wand, making a faint white ring on the material and spoke a soft incantation under his breath. The bottom half of the right trouser leg fell to the shower room floor. He handed the mutilated combats back to Hermione and she slipped them on, pulling them up under the towel that was still wrapped around her.

"Ready to go?" he asked. She nodded and stuck out an arm for support. Ron readied himself for screaming. His father had twisted an ankle before and Ron had been on the receiving end of an awful lot of shouting, shrieking and swearing that day. And of course, the 'Thrymheim incident' had proved that Hermione had a talent for ear-splitting screams. But to his great surprise, when Hermione clambered up, wincing at the pain, she merely turned white and bit her lip, before sitting down again very quickly.

"Hurts too much," she mumbled.

"If you can stand up for 3 seconds and bear with it, I can lift you onto my back and get you to Madame Pomfrey."

"Ron! You can't! I can't! I'd break you in half!"

"Whatever. Look, do you want to get that seen to or not?"

"Well yeah…"

"Then get up and let me carry you. You'll only be standing for a moment, and if I can manage to walk with Ginny, Fred and Harry clinging to me, then you'll be no problem at all. Kapiche?"

"Oh fine," she said in a resigned voice, "But don't blame me if you end up looking like that dude at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Oh the one with the hunchback?"

"Yeah"

"Don't worry 'Mione, sheesh, I'm not that weak you know. Stop wasting your time and get on with it."

"Ok, ok, keep your hair on."

Somehow she managed to stand and sort of hop onto Ron's back. Kicking open the cubicle door, the red-head walked out of the bathroom, and into the corridor.

"That wasn't so bad now, was it?"

"No I 'spose not."

"You alright there? You haven't got vertigo have you?"

"Don't be daft," she said, swatting him on the head, "It's actually quite cool. I always wondered how things would look if I was taller."

"And how's your ankle?"

"Could be better, but it's not hurting as much as before."

"Good, good."

Hermione laughed quietly.

"What's so funny?"

"The looks on everyone's faces. I can see the Daily Prophet's headlines now – 'SON OF MINISTRY OFFICIAL GIVES PIGGY BACK RIDE TO A HOGWARTS GIRL WITH HALF A TROUSER AND A SWOLLEN ANKLE – Is this the first case of insanity at Hogwarts in a decade? – Rita Skeeter investigates…'"

Ron chuckled, "D'you think we should give 'em a show?"

"Yeah!" said Hermione, although she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"You have no idea what I'm talking about do you?" said Ron with a twinge of sadness, "Look it's very simple – I'll do the bass, and you do the tune. A… one…two…a…one…two…three…four…"

* * *

Harry walked briskly down the corridors searching for his friends. No-one had seen them, and Harry desperately needed help with some of his homework. He rounded a corner to see a tall boy giving a piggy-back ride to a girl. Both were singing at the tops of their lungs and lurching from side to side. The girl appeared to be clinging to the boy's head with one hand, and shaking maracas furiously in the other. They were causing quite a stir, and several other students seemed to have joined in. Harry thought he could see Colin Creevey's head amidst the crowd, and sure enough, there he was, occasionally donging a cowbell in time to the song. Even Draco Malfoy had joined in – bashing Crabbe and Goyle's heads together in a complicated rhythm while Zabini played little drum rolls on their skulls. The procession continued past Harry and he decided to follow. As they carried on through the corridors, Harry fought through the mass towards the two who were leading the whole thing. 

"Harry!" shouted Hermione, "Hellooooooooo!" she turned to the sea of faces behind her, "Come on people, let's be havin' you!"

"Er hi," said Harry, quite bewildered, "Um is that you Ron? What did Hermione do to her ankle?"

"Long story!" bellowed Ron, "We're just going to the hospital wing actually."

"These people too?" Harry indicated the throng of Hogwarts students weaving and dancing behind him.

"Nah. They just like the song I think."

"Oh. Good."

"Oi Harry – catch!" Hermione yelled and tossed him a whistle.

"What?"

"Harry blow it, ohhhhhh, Harry blow the whistle…" sang Ron, jigging from side to side. Harry looked at the whistle in his hand. _Ah what the hell,_ he thought.

3 hours later, Hermione sat in the hospital ward for the second time that week, recovering from Madame Pomfrey's ankle healing tinctures. The Golden Trio looked tired but happy, and their red faces were beginning too fade.

"That was great guys!" beamed Harry.

"Yup," said Ron, and promptly fell asleep on Hermione's shoulder. Harry smiled at her, as he fell asleep on her other shoulder.

"This is the bestest place to be," she thought sleepily, "Sitting in Hogwarts with the two boys I love most in the whole wide world." She began to snore gently.

"Miss Granger! Miss Granger!"

Someone was shaking Hermione awake.

"Madame Pomfrey? Whatever is the matter?"

Madame Pomfrey snorted and indicated the two boys slouched on either side of Hermione. Hermione blushed a little.

"Oh, I'm sorry Madame Pomfrey, the tincture made me quite drowsy…"

Madame Pomfrey cut her off, "Yes dear, I know, but neither of these lovely young men had any tincture applied, and as you can see, it's getting rather crowded in here."

"Uh…where am I…" burbled Harry, lifting his head up off Hermione's shoulder and experimentally cricking his head from side to side, "Oooch my neck…"

"We can soon fix that, Harry m'lad," smiled Madame Pomfrey with a menacing glint in her eye.

"Oh I'm sure I'll be fine," he said, a little fearfully.

"Come on Ron, get up!"

Ron, who was currently ensconced in Hermione's lap, seemed to be showing absolute zero keenness in waking up. Hermione looked at Harry pleadingly. Harry looked at a sleeping Ron. Madame Pomfrey looked at Harry while brandishing a set of lethal looking tongs. Professor Snape looked round the door and stole Hermione's maracas while everyone looked elsewhere. In those seconds, time seemed to stand still. Well sort of. While no-one was taking action in the hospital wing, Snape was in fact dancing the salsa in the corridor outside it.

Once the seconds had passed, a decision was made and Harry dashed to the doors and wrenched them open, so that Hermione could stagger through, carrying a snoozing Ron in her arms. However, all three friends landed back in the hospital wing anyway, when Hermione promptly dropped Ron on his head and Harry pulled a muscle from laughing so much.

So Madame Pomfrey got to use her tongs in the end...

* * *

**Did you enjoy? Did you puke? Did you cry?...please let me know... **

**I would just like to say a quick thank you to all the wonderful people who reviewed last time: Invaderk, HarryandGinnyRonandHermione & Crystal Springs...your reviews were very much appreciated - thank you!  
**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello there...this chapter is one of those which focuses a little more on Draco than in previous chapters, but it is still mainly a RonHermione chapter. I have no other justification for writing about different characters other than I like writing about them :)**

**I also must take this moment just to apologise for the awful "joke" in the third section of this chapter. If you don't get it I really don't blame you - but if you do get it then yayyyyy! If there is the demand for one I shall attempt to give an explanation of it in the A/N of chapter 9... **

**Once again: I am JK Rowling and I own all these wonderful Harry Potter related things _only in my dreams _:( **

**Well I hope you enjoy...and if you don't, then do not hesitate to let me know...**

* * *

Draco Malfoy sat on the window ledge in the Astronomy Tower, dangling his legs in the air. It was late; he knew that, but he couldn't tear himself away. Stars twinkled in a velvety sky down below his feet. The grounds of the school were dark and mysterious. A warm breeze drifted over him. _Everything is so pretty_, he thought. _Oh feck I'm turning into a girl._

"Draco?"

"Hmmmm?" He turned his head, "Oh hey Hermione."

"Hi – you don't mind if I sit here do you? I just needed to be somewhere cooler and a little less crazy for a while."

"No, don't worry – here…" he shifted over to give her room to sit.

"Thanks."

Several minutes passed.

"Hermione?"

"Yeah?"

"If you thought you loved someone, would you tell them?"

"Er, how d'you mean exactly?"

"Like if – I dunno – say, you love Harry right?"

"Yeah…as a brother…."

"Well would you tell him you love him?"

"Of course – I mean I do tell him anyway, but jokingly – he tends to throw things at me when I say that – pillows, books….once even a gnome when we were at Ron's."

"Oh."

"Are you ok?"

Draco's shoulders had slumped forward and his head hung downwards. He mumbled something inaudible.

"Draco?" asked Hermione, and then more insistently, "Draco!"

The Slytherin boy looked up, his face pale, and Hermione saw tears rolling down his cheeks.

"She…he…they never said…"

"Don't cry…please…" she reached her hand out and touched his shoulder.

"…they never s-said they loved me…" He clambered down and sat on the cold floor.

"Who?"

"Mum…and d-dad"

"I'm sure they do love you deep down, and maybe they just can't express it – not everyone finds that easy."

He shook his head vehemently, sprinkling tears onto the stones.

"Draco, come here," she whispered and wrapped her arms around him, letting him sob into her robes.

Eventually he spoke, "I just wanted them to say it. Just once so I knew and I could be confident that someone loved me…"

He burst into tears again and buried his face in his hands.

"It's ok Draco, it's ok…" she soothed, rubbing his back in a circle pattern, "It's ok, it's ok, it's ok…"

* * *

Ginny sighed and opened her eyes. The sun was streaming through her dorm window. It was going to be a beautiful day – perfect weather for Quidditch and thankfully, today was lesson-free, so she would be able to make the most of it. But first things first – she needed some clothes. A quick glance around the dorm told her it was high time she learnt to be a bit tidier – it would make it so much easier to dress in the mornings. Hands on hips, she surveyed the scene. If she was going to find _anything_, reinforcements were needed... 

"Oi Marguerite!"

"You called?"

"Is Hermione in the Common Room?"

"Harry said she was still asleep."

"Damn! Right, guess it's just you and me then?"

"What's the matter? Lost all you clothes again?"

"Erm…kinda…"

Marguerite rolled her eyes and issued a long suffering sigh that was eerily similar to those of Molly Weasley.

"Ginny, have you looked in your trunk?"

"Trunk? Do I have one of those?"

"Uh yes. You always have one when you arrive here, remember? Big brown box thing, nice gold locks, bit like a coffin – ring any bells?"

Ginny's face remained blank.

"Oh for the love of Merlin!"

Marguerite strode over to Ginny's bed, reached underneath and dragged out a trunk covered with an inch think coat of dust. Spotting Crookshanks sneak in, she grabbed the poor animal and ignoring its yowls, used its tail to sweep away the clouds of dust.

"Et voila," she took a bow, donked Ginny on the head and walked out.

"Alriiiight, let's see what's in here," said Ginny, whipping out her wand, "Alohamora!"

The trunk clicked open to reveal several t-shirts, jeans and two knitted jumpers packed neatly underneath several school books, a tin of broomstick wax, some quills, a wooden hairbrush and a number of socks. Ginny grabbed a red t-shirt, some combats and a pair of socks. She pulled on the socks first and felt a tingling sensation. Curious, she passed her wand over her feet and several words showed up, indicating that Hermione had put a midge repellant charm on them. The red t-shirt had been a birthday gift from Charlie. It was a little on the large side and was the official top for the Romanian Quidditch team. Finally, she tugged on the combats and pushed her feet into her Quidditch shoes. She grabbed her broomstick and printed out of the room and into the grounds.

Harry, Ron, Oliver, Alicia and Fred were already outside zooming around when Ginny dashed onto the grass. They played together for about an hour and a half, as a steady stream of other students joined them in the skies. Soon it was quite busy, and Ginny decided to leave – she shouted to Alicia that she was going, and swooped down, coasting her heels along the grass. Ginny ground to a halt at the side of the Quidditch stands to see Hermione having a heated argument with Blaise Zabini. There were wild gestures and tossing of heads, and then Hermione seemed to surrender, holding her hands up in front of her with a look of resignation. Zabini patted her on the back and walked off, leaving her looking dejected. She soon perked up when she saw Ginny heading in her direction.

"Ginny!" Hermione ran towards her, hair flying and arms outstretched, "Finally!"

Ginny nodded, "Good morning to you too, sleepy-head."

Hermione bit her lip, "Yes, well, long night and all that…"

"Don't worry Hermy, everyone needs a lie-in now and then."

"Yes I 'spose…hold on a minute…you just called me Hermy! Gah! You know I hate that…" she lunged at Ginny and cuffed the Weasley girl on the head.

"Yeowch Hermione, jeez – calm down. Anyway, you read them did you?"

Hermione blinked.

"The parchment bundle I gave you…" (A/N see chapter 5)

"Oh. Oh yeah, I did."

"And…?"

"Niiiiice."

"Weeeally?" Ginny batted her eyelashes.

"Yup. So when d'you wanna go?"

"When are you free?"

"This afternoon?"

"Ooh perfect for me – I'll meet you on the bench near Hagrid's Hut at 2-ish yeah?"

"Alright - it's a date."

"Cool…see ya Hermione."

"Where you goin'?"

"Showers. To be quite frank, I stink like a warthog in a sauna."

"Like Harry then."

"Oi! I happen to think he smells quite nice."

"Oh I'm sure you do," grinned Hermione, winking at her blushing friend.

"I'll be off then."

"Okely, 'bye!'

* * *

"They're up to something," said a voice in Harry's ear. 

"Good God Ron! Do you have to sneak up like that!"

"Well you did look a bit 'gone' for a moment. Had to check there was still a brain up there."

"Yup, still is Ronny, in fact, half a brain more than you'll ever have."

"Oh so true…" chipped in Fred.

Ron glared, "I'm just as intelligent as you!"

"_Right_," said Fred.

Far away in the distance, strains of "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt…" could be heard – the lone baritone of Dumbledore and the trembling bass of Hagrid…

* * *

It was 2-ish in the afternoon and Ginny was sitting on the bench outside Hagrid's hut. Any passerby would have seen a small, red-haired girl, dressed in casual muggle clothes, swinging her legs in the sunshine. But inside, Ginny was a quivering, nervous wreck. Anything could go wrong – what if Hermione had misread the bundle of parchments? What if someone else had discovered them? What if the way out of Hogwarts was blocked? She wished Hermione would hurry up and set her mind at ease. Just as she thought that, a flustered-looking girl, with brown bushy hair appeared from behind the greenhouses and scampered over to where Ginny was sitting. 

"So…sorry…I'm…late…" she croaked breathlessly.

"It's alright," smiled Ginny, "We'll stay here a little while and then when you're ready…"

Hermione nodded and conjured a glass of water which she gulped in one go.

"You brought everything we need?" asked Ginny

"Yuppedy."

"Ok let's go!"

The two girls leapt to their feet and dashed behind Hagrid's hut. Their eyes darted from side to side - the coast was clear. They trotted around the edge of the hut and Hermione pulled out her wand. She shut her eyes and whispered a word, and then the grass at the edge of the hut began to glow; and then glow brighter, orange and red, until flames began to flicker.

"Hermione!" hissed Ginny, "Are you sure that's meant to happen!"

The flames were growing higher and were beginning to lap at the edges of the hut's roof.

"Will you calm down! I know what I'm doing!"

"I don't remember burning down Hagrid's hut as being part of the plan."

All at once, the flames died and a ring of ashes formed on the ground. Hermione bent down and cleared them away, revealing the outlines of a trap door. She dug her fingers around the edges and pulled the door upwards, which opened onto a dark underground tunnel. She turned to Ginny.

"Ready?"

"Ready as ever."

With that, Ginny jumped down through the door, narrowly followed by Hermione, who pulled the door shut behind her.

* * *

Meanwhile, back at Hogwarts… 

"LUNA!"

Luna Lovegood jumped about three feet in the air and hid cowering behind a suit of armour. Ron thundered down the corridor.

"Luna! Come out!"

"There's no Luna here. Oh no, never heard of her. No-one here but a suit of armour. And a sword. And a shield. And a twilight floonkey-scrabber."

"Luna. I'm going to count to ten…"

"Oooh hide and seek! I love hide and seek! Close your eyes and I'll hide ok?"

"NO!" barked Ron, "Luna, I am going to count to ten AND if you're not out of there by the time I finish, I'm going to blow this suit of armour all the way to Diagon Alley. Understand?"

"That's not very nice."

"You're not being very nice either."

"Oh."

"1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…"

Luna stepped out from behind the armour. "Alright Ron, I'll tell you – but only just this once."

Ron's eyes lit up. Luna looked at him thoughtfully.

"Follow me."

"What?"

"Do you wish to find out or are you going to stand there like a paralysed donkey?"

"Fine. I'll come."

Luna led the way up two flights of staircases, onto a landing and then stopped.

"I expect it'll be ok to go in here – no-one will hear us."

"Uh, go in where exactly?"

Luna stepped aside to reveal a door set very cleverly into the wall so that only someone who looked for it specifically would be able to see it. She pressed her hand against it and it clicked open.

"I'll be back as soon as I can. Don't do anything stupid, Ron."

"Stupid as in what?"

"Trying to touch the door or opening the door yourself."

"Why?"

Luna sighed heavily and then recited (with the air of someone who has said it many times before), "This is 'Helga's Hideaway'. Only Hufflepuffs can gain access to it, but even then, only a few have had it revealed to them. Not many Hufflepuffs even know it exists."

"Oh I see. So what will it do to me if I try to come in?"

Luna grabbed his hand and brushed the door lightly with his fingertips. Almost immediately Ron felt his fingers begin to seize up. He looked at his hand, but where once there was flesh was now wood. He tried to wiggle them, but they moved slowly, making creaking noises.

"Oh! That's new!" exclaimed Luna with excitement. She began to tap his fingers on the wall, "Wooow! Exactly like real wood!"

Ron was struggling to comprehend the situation. "You mean…this doesn't normally happen?"

Luna shook her head, "Nopedy. When Beatrix Cairnmoore – you know – that Ravenclaw third year – was brought here by Hannah Abbot, she turned into an ice woman and we had to hide her under the chimney to try and get her to defrost. We're not really meant to bring other students here because of the risks that one day a student from a different house will die. But no-one has yet," she said matter-of-factly.

"But I…I could have died!" cried Ron, indignant.

"When I brought Neville here, he accidentally brushed the door with his foot and all his clothes fell off…" The blonde girl's eyes glazed over and a smile played on her lips, "Such a lovely bottom…"

"Luna! Too much information! Could we maybe get back to sorting out my hand please? And maybe actually going into that room?"

"Oh yes. Sorry Ron."

She muttered several spells and tapped her wand on his hand, while he tried to shake the terrifying mental images of Neville naked from his head.

"Hmmm. Yes. The spells are done. Now you must listen. I am going to go in first and clear away the wards and anti-Gryffindor charms and whatever other Weasley-repelling spells that Professor Sprout has dreamed up. Then I shall call your name and you will walk inside, not touching anything - and the door will close behind you. Oh, and don't sneeze or you'll disturb the doxies."

"Erm right."

Ron stood waiting there, wondering why Luna couldn't have just told him everything in the corridor. He was just about to turn around and leave, when he heard Luna calling his name. Taking a deep breath and trying not to sneeze, he walked though the door. A long passageway stretched ahead of him, lined with flickering candles. At the end he could see a figure waving at him. The door clicked shut behind him and he made his way carefully along. When he reached Luna, she stepped back and proclaimed, "Welcome to Helga's Hideaway…"

Ron gasped. He was standing in an indoor garden. On the far wall, a waterfall cascaded through lush green vegetation, and around the edges of the room stood tall tropical trees. Several branches were thick enough to hold wooden platforms, on which small tree houses had been built. Where the waterfall crashed into a pool, he could see Cedric Diggory lounging on some cushions, chatting to two of his friends who were swimming in the blue waters. More cushions were scattered on a circle of lawn to his right and beautiful, exotic flowers grew everywhere.

Luna smiled happily. "Nice isn't it?"

Ron's mouth was opening and shutting, but no noise came out. Luna, who was used to this by now, grabbed his arm and steered him towards a secluded area of grass surrounded by pink flowering bushes, where butterflies were dancing. She sat down and asked sweetly, "Something to drink?"

Ron, who has regained his ability to speak nodded and asked, "You have drinks here too?"

"Yes of course. What would you like?"

"A nice cool Salamander smoothie would be nice."

Luna stood up and trotted off, returning a minute later with a bottle of Salamander smoothie and a glass of Comfrey and Camomile water for herself.

Ron took his bottle and thanked her.

"Well," said Luna, "What is it you want to know exactly? Harry wasn't very lucid, but I think that might have been because he's found me a little scary ever since I told him that black-haired boys are three times more likely to die in the company of a blonde person than old men. But I thought it was important he should know. All he said was _you_ needed some advice, and scuttled off. That's why I told you I had a secret to tell you…I just didn't know exactly what secret it was. Is it about Hermione?"

Ron choked on his drink. When he had finished coughing, he answered.

"Yes."

"It's ok Ron, you can trust me."

"I think…no…um…I _love_ her, Luna. And I want to tell her, but I'm afraid. She might not like me back and she might reject me or she might think I'm just joking."

"Aha. Well I think I know what secret I shall be telling you now."

"You do?"

"Yes."

"Well?"

"Ron. I don't know how you're going to take this. You can shout at me if you want, and don't be ashamed to cry if you need to, but Hermione loves you too."

"Yeah. As a friend."

"No, not just as a friend. She loves you more than that."

"You're kidding."

"I have no reason to kid. I always knew she loved you even before I actually spoke to her and one night a couple of months ago, Ginny, Hermione and I were in the library and Ginny said she had to go. So it was just me and Hermione. At first we were both reading, but then somehow we ended up talking. I think I had asked her a question about an article I read in the Quibbler – about an academy for young girls who are exceptionally gifted at magic. I thought maybe she would like to go there or apply, but she thought not because she likes it here. And she told me she likes the work and the teachers, and she liked the school and its grounds. She said she loves her friends here and I agreed and I said that I love it here because this is where Neville is and I like to watch him when he's growing things in the greenhouse because his face is so serene. And then she smiled and said she likes it here because of you. She loves to watch you play chess and fly on your broomstick. She likes it when you tease her and she even likes it when you argue. She _even _said that when you fight and you ignore her that it feels so horrible and sad and that she to do more homework than normal to stop herself crying."

Ron leapt to his feet, his blue eyes bright. "Bloody hell Luna! She loves me! She loves me! She…"

He stopped, shoulders drooping, "She might not love me anymore…"

Luna groaned.

"Ron, just trust me, she loves you. All these years she never said a word because she thought she couldn't sacrifice one of the best friendships she'd ever had. Only last week I overheard Dean telling her that it was high time she got her act together and told you the truth…"

"Is she going to tell me?Or am I going to have to tell her?"

"Come on, it's nearly time for dinner – we've been here for ages."

"Luna, do you know if Hermione's going to tell me? What should I doooooo?"

"Hmmmm….I'm sure I had a teapot in here somewhere…"

"Luna! Stop blanking me and give me a straight answer this minute!"

"I have no idea if she's going to tell you….oh here it is…so why don't you tell her when it's the right moment and then everything will be fine and dandy."

* * *

Ginny and Hermione arrived back at Hogwarts at around dusk. Footsore and aching, lugging several bags between them. Much to Ginny's horror they had missed dinner, but Hermione managed to scavenge some marshmallows and had taken some cheese and bread from under her bed to share with Ginny. Hermione sat on the edge of Ginny's bed chewing marshmallows while Ginny took everything out of the bags and began to pack them away into boxes. She held up a skirt that she had bought for her mother's birthday. 

"Whaddya think?"

"Mmpfner schagoost ghuit cha…"

"Hermione, it's probably not the best idea to try to talk and eat twelve marshmallows at the same time."

"Gafosh awohj…" began Hermione indignantly.

"Shhhhhh…" grinned Ginny, "When you've finished chewing there are some other questions I'd like to ask you. Such as, 'how do you feel about Ron?'…"

* * *

**S****o...how was it? Did you verily enjoy it or did you verily unenjoy it? Mayhaps, unenjoy is not a word, but never mind...prithee please let me know...**

**your humble servant (hehehehe)**

**die Libelle **


	9. Chapter 9

**Welcome, welcome, to chapter 9... there are just a few little announcements I would like to make -**

**1. this chapter is more to do with Marguerite and also George Weasley, but nevertheless there is still some RonHermione in it**

**2. it has been brought to my attention that Luna Lovegood is indeed a Ravenclaw and not a Hufflepuff :( I apologise for this mistake and ask that we can just pretend she has always been a Hufflepuff and was only _disguised_ as a Ravenclaw in all previous Harry Potter books :)**

**3. Cedric is alive because this fanfiction is not 'canon' (I hope that's the right term) and also because I need him to be alive for this all to work...**

**4. the 'joke' in the previous chapter was a play on words: "Right," said Fred - Right Said Fred had a hit ageeees ago with the song 'I'm too sexy for my shirt...' - yes, I know, not very funny, but oh well :)**

**disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter et al, but I do own a rather snazzy pair of green flipflops (if I do say so myself)**

* * *

Marguerite Rodriguez was sitting alone in a dark corridor that faced out onto the courtyard. Her arms rested on her knees and her head hung downwards so that her bob of thick black hair formed straight black curtains obscuring most of her face. A few tears had fallen onto her long skirt and they glittered like stars before soaking into the material and becoming splodges of ink. She looked up at the archways and sniffed loudly. Cursing herself for not bringing any tissues, she held her head in her hands, and the great clock chimed eleven. 

A little creature appeared at the end of the corridor. The creature's ears pricked up as it heard the girl crying and the saw the puddles her tears were making on the floor, so it tiptoed noiselessly towards her and began tugging on her skirt.

Marguerite raised her head.

"Dobby!"

"Please, Missus Rodriguez, Dobby couldn't help but notice you were sad. Please don't be angry with Dobby – Dobby was worried, Miss."

"It's ok Dobby. You wouldn't happen to have some tissues with you, would you?"

"No, Dobby is sorry," Dobby shook his head sadly, "Dobby only has the sheet he is wearing with him."

"Oh."

"But Dobby also has this with him Miss."

The house-elf reached behind a pillar and placed a large red object in front of him with a flourish.

"Dobby, this is a fire extinguisher."

She lifted it up towards the light and asked, "Where exactly did you get this?"

"Well you see my lady, Dobby was in London and he found the Ministry of Magic." Dobby puffed out his chest with pride, "But to get there, Dobby had to take 'The Underground' and he thought no-one would believe him so he took himself a souvenir."

Marguerite examined the large black letters on the side of the cylinder that said 'PROPERTY OF LONDON TRANSPORT: PENALTY FOR REMOVAL ₤300'. She tried to think of a kind way of breaking it to Dobby. She failed.

"Dobby – you're, well, not meant to take these from the trains, they're not free you see…"

"But Dobby is not a thief!"

"Yes…but…um…you've…uh…stolen it."

"Oh no! Bad Dobby! Dobby is a thief!" A large tear splashed to the floor next to the house elf's foot. Next thing Marguerite knew the fire extinguisher was being wrenched from her hands.

"BAD DOBBY! BAD DOBBY! STEALING IS BAD!"

"Dobby STOP! No! You'll knock yourself out!"

"DOBBY MUST BE PUNISHED!"

"The fire extinguisher might explode! Gah! DOBBY!"

Dobby stopped in the middle of bashing himself and looked up at her with wide green eyes. Marguerite took the opportunity to snatch the badly dented extinguisher from him and sighed heavily.

"Dobby, don't worry about it. When I go to Diagon Alley sometime I'll drop it off for you, alright?"

"Oh Miss Marguerite is so kind to Dobby, but Dobby must be going as he has work to do…" he tapped the side of his nose. "Very special work, so he must leave before he is too late."

The house-elf snapped his fingers and vanished. Marguerite clutched the fire extinguisher in her arms and burst into tears.

----------

"Marguerite, hey…what's wrong?" asked Draco, lowering himself to sit beside her. Marguerite mumbled something .

"What did you say? Um…here have a tissue…"

She blew her nose loudly and then repeated, "H-h-harry P-potter"

"Potter? What did he do to you? If he hurt you, I'll go get Zabini and we'll beat him up on your behalf. He didn't hit you – did he?"

She shook her head.

"Then?"

"H-he loves…he loves Ginny…not me…"

"Oh…Marguerite, I'm so sorry – if it makes you feel any better, he doesn't love me either."

"Yeah but you don't love him."

"True, but no-one likes being hated."

"I feel like such a fool to have even bothered with him – I should've noticed that he always looked at her differently to me. Always spoke to her first. Always blushed a little when she called his name. Oh god, I'm so stuuuupid…"

Draco draped an arm around her shoulders and handed her another tissue.

"You're not stupid, you donkey, you're one of the cleverest people I know, so don't you _ever_ say you're stupid again. You're way too modest for your own good."

She raised her head and looked at him sarcastically. The effect was rather spoilt by her red-rimmed eyes.

"Merlin! How long have you been sitting here crying, Moodles?"

"You haven't called me Moodles since I was ten years old…" she said wistfully, "…do you remember? Your father strode up in a rage and told you off for fraternising with the 'filthy mudblood' children"

"I never saw you again until you arrived here as a scrawny little first year."

"I wasn't _that_ scrawny, my little Pixie-legs – and anyway, I've grown."

Draco pouted, "I am _not_ a pixie…"

He broke off as quick footsteps echoed down the corridor.

"Marguerite! Why're you…did someone do something terrible? You've been crying!"

"Hello to you too, George."

"Shut up Blondie, the Slytherin common room is over there. Why not take a hint and go running over to your darling Zabini?"

Draco bristled. "Why not take a hint and shut up? Can't you see Moo– Marguerite is upset?"

"Yes I can see she is, and if you could just _budge up_, maybe I could sit down and find out why."

Draco rolled his eyes and shifted himself. Marguerite moved closer to Draco, and George wedged himself in between her and the door frame. He touched her face tenderly.

"Did Ginny make you cry?"

"Sort of," she mumbled.

George mouthed the word 'Harry?' at Draco, who nodded sadly.

"Love is a strange thing," commented George, stretching his legs out in front of him.

"Oh yeah? And what would you know about it?" demanded Draco.

"More than you, for sure. Marguerite, why are you cuddling a fire extinguisher?"

The Gryffindor girl looked at the fire extinguisher in her arms as though she had just noticed it for the first time.

She sighed. "Long story. So…um…George…what exactly _do _you know about love?"

The red-head cracked his knuckles. "It's painful for one thing."

Marguerite nodded, her eyes watery, "Go on…"

"You know what, I think this calls for a drink – I'm definitely going to need one after this."

He brought out a bottle of firewhiskey from under his jumper and conjured three glasses. He poured a little whiskey into two of the glasses and poured half the bottle into his own. Draco and Marguerite took their glasses and waited while George sipped thoughtfully.

"Hmmm, better start at the beginning, I suppose…I came to Hogwarts years ago, with Fred, excited and naïve. I had never thought about girls…or love…or any of the other serious things like responsibility, schoolwork, exams…Me and Fred just wanted to pull as many pranks as possible, make as many people laugh as possible and just be the class clowns. And then suddenly, all that changed. Fred and I discovered the joys of Quidditch, and next minute we were playing next to girls – girls with boobies."

George chuckled softly, "And with the Quidditch also came the injuries, and so it happened that I ended up in the hospital wing after Cedric Diggory had knocked me off my broom. So there I was, lying on my own, lonely because Pomfrey had made all my friends leave, when who should enter but Cedric himself."

George took another gulp of firewhiskey before continuing, "He was older than me – still is in fact – but I found him intimidating. Tall, strong, fierce; scared the shit out of me during Quidditch matches, and yet, there he was, smiling apologetically, rambling on in his Scottish accent about how he hoped I was ok and there were no bones broken. And I couldn't help but like him. So after I recovered, I tried to get to know him better – see what this scary Hufflepuff – bit of a contradiction, but hey – was like underneath. I would go to the library and ask his opinions on pranks we were planning. He had a lot more knowledge of spellcraft than us, and he would help me to perfect the spells and charms. In return for his assistance, I persuaded Fred to let me show him some of the secret Hogwarts passages and chambers.

Then…then came a point when I would see him and we would just talk about anything and everything. If I saw him in the corridors I'd stop and chat. We'd wave to each other in the Great Hall, and sometimes even practise Quidditch together after class. It was strange that I didn't seem to notice. Fred, of all people, was the one who pointed out that I seemed to be falling in love. I thought he was joking."

George laughed to himself. "Perhaps it was just sheer denial. Maybe fear that Fred was right, but I couldn't admit to it.

I think I was in the fourth year and Ced in the fifth, and the summer holidays were looming. He asked me if I wanted to come and stay with him for a week. I didn't think Mum would be all that keen on me staying up in Scotland on my own, so I wrote a letter telling her I'd be staying with Lee, and not to wait for me at King's Cross with Fred. She said that would be fine and to behave myself - the usual. I was over the moon.

So I went to Cedric's house and met his Dad, and we mucked around, playing Quidditch…I think it was on the last night of my stay that he kissed me…"

Draco choked on his drink and Marguerite clapped him on the back irritably.

"Don't mind him George, just carry on."

"Yes. Well anyway, to cut an extraordinarily long story short, I kissed him back. We spent the rest of the holidays writing letters to each other, and when we returned to Hogwarts, I tried really hard to keep Fred from finding about the true nature of our friendship. Alas, he found out – twins being telepathic and all."

"Was he shocked?"

"Nah not really. He said he'd been expecting it to happen sooner or later."

"So what happened? I'm sure I've never seen you even glance at him before."

"Yeah, because even though I dearly love my family and friends, I'm not entirely sure they'd be that happy if they knew I was gay. And of course somehow that nosy git Percy found out. He can be alright I 'spose, but he's incredibly…err…homophobic. Basically he did a spot of blackmail. Either I break up with Ced, or Percy would make it his personal duty as Head Boy to inform both families – Weasley and Diggory, as well as making my life a personal hell too."

"Does Cedric know all that?"

"Nope. I…just…had to break it off. Couldn't risk it."

"You still love him don't you?"

"Of course I do. But I guess that's the way life goes eh? I envy my brothers, I really do. And Ginny."

"I envy Ginny too."

"I know."

"I used to envy Ron"

"You're still here Blondie? You used to envy Ron? You wanted to be a prat too?"

"Don't call me Blondie!" hissed Draco through gritted teeth, "And no, I didn't want to be a prat, I wanted to be the one Hermione loved."

George's jaw hit the ground.

"Wh-what?"

"Not anymore though. It's obvious he makes her happy, so I just accepted it. But it really did take a long time to get over it all."

"So that's why you insulted her so much."

"Oh shut up. I'm not proud of that, and you know it."

In the distance the clock chimed midnight.

George jumped up and dusted off his jeans, "Best get to bed people."

"But…" started Marguerite, "…I don't want to face Ginny. Not tonight."

Draco grabbed his friend's hands.

"She's still your friend. She's stood by you all this time, looked after you, stuck up for you. Even if Harry doesn't love you, she does, I do, George does…"

"And Fred," interrupted George.

"Yes, and Fred. Life goes on but we're still here for you – alright?"

Marguerite nodded and hugged him.

"That was beautiful," said George grinning, "Good luck Marguerite, I'm off…"

The Weasley boy strode off in the opposite direction and disappeared into the shadows.

"So," said Marguerite, picking up the fire extinguisher. "I guess it's time for bed then. Walk with me to the Gryffindor Tower?"

"Of course my sweet lady...so...what's the plan?" asked Draco.

They began to walk.

"Okay," whispered Marguerite. "It's quite simple really…"

* * *

George sat at the Gryffindor table idly playing with a piece of toast, while his twin gabbled on to Lee about some amazing girl he'd met in the holidays, and flicked cornflakes at a couple of passing first years. 

George noticed that although Harry was sitting with Ron and Hermione, his attention was being held by George's little sister. George quickly looked to where Marguerite was sitting, and saw her sipping tea serenely next to Hermione and another Gryffindor girl.

He noted that Hermione was talking Ron, and that both seemed to be on pins and needles around each other. _Young love_, he thought grumpily. And then he realised that they weren't the only ones who looked agitated. That Malfoy boy was sitting right in front of George's view, blocking out the other students with his back. His blond head completely obscured any fleeting glimpses that George had been hoping to catch of Cedric Diggory. The red-head grumbled to himself and tried to take a bite of his toast before realising he had crushed it to crumbs in his fist.

"God George!" exclaimed Lee, "Tense much?"

George glowered in reply, muttering under his breath. He watched Ginny flirt a little with Harry. For some reason he felt himself get even angrier. How could they be so oblivious to Marguerite's _pain_? He glanced up again at the black-haired girl who had been crying last night, but she was still sitting just as calmly as before. She noticed George staring and waved, smiling. _Hmph,_ thought George, _she doesn't look very anguished – maybe I'm just jealous because Harry will get his chance at love._

He grasped a fork and began mashing the toast crumbs into a fine powder. What a way to start the day…the only way it could possibly get worse would be if they suddenly announced a 'surprise ball'.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and the hall fell silent. "Students! As you may well know, tomorrow is Midsummer's Eve, and we have decided to grant all Hogwarts students permission to celebrate with an outdoor 'surprise ball'…"

"Ah, bollocks," muttered George, as the rest of the students reacted rather more enthusiastically.

"Bollocks, bollocks, bollocks…"

'That Malfoy boy' was now moon-walking backwards and forwards, blocking George's view of the Hufflepuff table perfectly.  
_Idiot,_ thought George. _Maybe that's what you get for baring your soul to a Slytherin…_

He buried his head in his arms.

"Oi!"

Someone was calling him.

"OIII!"

That was funny, George was sure he'd heard that voice before somewhere. Lilting, even when shouting at him…a voice with an accent…a…Scottish…accent…

George looked up into piercing grey-blue eyes. He gulped.

"Urm…Cedric…hi…"

The Gryffindor's eyes flitted quickly to the door and he tried to stand up, but found that someone had tied his legs to the bench. He glanced in panic to Marguerite, who feigned astonishment before breaking him into a grin and giving him a thumbs-up sign. _Grrrr…_

Cedric, who was sick of waiting for George to realise that trying to escape was hopeless, bashed the table with his fist – causing everyone, including George, to jump. He leaned in closer over the table at a stunned George and remarked, "You've been avoiding me, Weasley."

George opened his mouth to protest, but the Hufflepuff placed a finger on his lips to shush him and cradled George's chin in his palm, tilting the red-head's face upwards and forcing him to look into those grey eyes. All at once George found the other boy's lips on his own – kissing him almost violently. For a moment, George realised that everyone must be staring, and that somehow Percy would inevitably hear about this little 'incident'. But then he realised – he didn't actually care.

Eventually they broke apart. Marguerite and Malfoy were beaming from ear-to-ear. Ron had dropped his plate. Hermione looked speechless. Harry was wide-eyed, and Ginny…Ginny was mouthing "about time!" Malfoy began to applaud, and soon the Hall descended into whoops and wolf-whistles.

Fred patted his twin on the back, and sat down in front of Ron, who was looking more than a little shell-shocked.

"Hi Hermione!" said Fred, greeting her with a lip-sided smile, "You don't mind if I just ask Ron something do you?"

Hermione shrugged, "You want me to go?"

"No, no, no, you can listen too."

"Fred…he's…George is…" stammered Ron.

"Yes, yes – get over it. I have more important things to say: Ron, you are our littlest brother, and we all have a duty to do for you. Charlie's engaged, Bill is receiving Veela lurve, Percy and Pernickety Penny are loved up, George has finally got Cedric, I have my women…"

"George!" gasped Hermione.

"I jest, Miss Granger, well partly, but anyway…when are you and Hermione here going to get your act together, hmm?"

"Wh-what..?" spluttered Ron, his face taking on the pallor of a sunburnt tomato.

"…what...!" echoed Hermione.

"_What_?" asked Fred innocently, "I merely asked when you two are going to _act_ together. You know – 'alas poor Yorick! I knew him well Horatio…'"

"Yorick? Isn't that like, some place, near London…"

"No Ronald," said Fred, slowly and clearly, " It's a line from a play, by Will-i-am Shake-speare. Can you say that? Shake-speeeare."

"It's a muggle play Ron – Hamlet."

"Yeah you see? You can just ask Hermione. She might also know something about Romeo and Juliet – though if Romeo was a thick as you, then in my opinion Juliet was better off dead. Though I'm sure Hermione wouldn't think so…" Fred wiggled his eyebrows at a flushing Hermione. "Anyways, see you…"

Fred leapt up and wandered off as the bell for classes began to ring. Hermione could've sworn she heard him reciting, "Oh Romeo, oh Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" as he left.

_Yes indeedy_, thought Hermione as she scanned the emptying Hall for her favourite red-head, _wherefore art thou Ronnio?_

* * *

Ron was in the (out of order) Girl's Toilets, bashing his head on a nearby sink. 

"Whyyyyyy can't I just tell herrrrr!" he shrieked.

Moaning Myrtle stuck her head out of the sink and screeched back, "Well she must be deaf if she couldn't hear that!" before disappearing down the plug hole with a loud splash.

Ron sat cross-legged on the floor, imagining the chastising he would receive from Hermione for skipping Transfiguration. He had to stop himself from laughing when he remembered the tongue-lashing she'd given Zabini the other day, when she'd discovered that the Slytherin had been bunking off Potions. Ron had been glad he hadn't been on the receiving end of Hermione's rant that day. Having said that though, for some reason their recent rows had been – how to put this – rather pleasurable for Ron. He could stare all he wanted, and several times this week, Hermione had been so infuriated that she'd literally back him into the wall, her hands pressing on his chest, pushing him across the room. He'd be lying if he didn't say that sometimes he deliberately started arguments just to see her hair fly around her face, and her eyes sparkle, and her jaw clench. And to see if she'd push him into another wall of course.

Maybe he'd pluck up the courage to ask her to this 'Midsummer's Eve Ball'. There was no way in Hell he would allow a repeat of the 'Krum Incident'. So he'd just have to summon up some of that famous Gryffindor bravery and ask her. Ask Hermione to the Ball. To the Ball…maybe she'd ask him instead?

Ron sat, lost in thoughts of overcoming his fear of rejection, when the door to the toilets opened slightly. He jolted out of his daydreams, heart thudding – what if that was Hermione on the other side of the door? But it could be Harry, he reasoned. Hermione, Harry, Hermione, Harry – what if it was someone else? They might think he was a pervert, hanging around toilets clearly designated for the opposite gender…

Harry peeked round the door. "Ron?"

"Oh thank heavens!" exclaimed Ron.

"Ron? Are you ok? What the hell are you doing in here?"

"Oh Harry…I'm so scared…"

"Why?"

"Hermione."

"Yes, well let me tell you – you are going to be in for one heck of a roasting when she finds out that you've been hiding in here all lesson."

"That's not quite what I meant…"

"Oh. Oh I see – you're going to ask her to the Ball?"

Ron nodded.

"Ah. Well good luck mate," said Harry, patting Ron on the shoulder and walking to the door.

"Harry? Where are you going?"

"Uh?"

"Don't leave meeee!" wailed Ron, clinging to Harry's leg.

Harry looked down at Ron, "She won't murder you or anything – in fact, I'm sure she'll say yes."

Ron looked up at Harry with puppy-dog eyes and tugged at his sleeve.

"What do you want me to do? Hold your hand?"

"No!"

"Then…what?"

"Just – you know – give me some advice and stuff. You have _experience_ with these kinds of things."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, I've told you before, Cho was not exactly what you would called experience."

"Yes, but…you've got Ginny now haven't you?" said Ron slyly.

"WHAT? Who told you that? We're not even going out…"

"Oh, well in that case, I'll just tell Ginny you're not interested then…"

"No! I mean, um…"

"Right then. Give me some advice."

"Oh alright."

"That was just a guess by the way."

"What?"

"About you and Ginny."

"Ron! You little sneak…" exclaimed Harry, looking torn between laughter and fury. Ron wondered for a split-second if he'd gone too far, but then Harry burst into peals of laughter.

"So," said Harry, suddenly looking serious, "Hermione. What to do…what to do…Aha! I've got it my Weasley friend – here's what I think – a little something I like to call Operation Go-getta-Granger!"

"Go-getta-Granger," repeated Ron slowly.

"You don't like it?"

"I was thinking of something a little less in your face…"

"Operation Seize the Girl?"

"No."

"Operation Showdown?"

"No."

"Operation Marauders Mark 2?"

"No. Something less aggressive maybe."

"Operation My Little Pony."

"You know, that has a certain ring to it."

"You cannot be serious."

"But it sounds perfect."

"Ron, Operation My Little Pony only sounds perfect to a six year old girl with more pink glitter and fwuffy widdle hearts between her ears than brain cells."

"Does not"

"Does too"

"Does not"

"DOES TOO"

"I _like_ ponies."

"Well if you must insist on that dreadful name – which I said as a _joke_ – then don't be surprised to receive a ballerina costume for your birthday."

"OK FINE. What do we call it then?"

"Hmmm, how about Operation H?"

"Sounds ok, I suppose."

"You sure? You would've looked so sweet in a frilly pink tutu."

"Harry?"

"Hm?"

"Shut up."

* * *

"This is so not going to work," hissed Ron. 

"Have faith Ron," replied Harry in a whisper, "Oh look – the red sparks have gone up – she's been spotted!"

The black-haired boy reached into his trouser pocket and brought out a small metallic object which he flipped open. He pointed his wand at it and muttered "Initiatus!"

He then proceeded to speak into it in a low voice.

"Hello Pineapple, do you read me? This is Code Red. I repeat, Code Red, on the Starboard Side." He paused.

"The Eagle is in flight, the Eagle is in flight, initiate the Quaffle…no Neville! Not literally! The Eagle has been sighted. I repeat again, initiate the Quaffle.

All systems go – the Carrot will be in motion on the count of three," he turned to Ron, "Ron – are you ready?"

"No…Harry – I really don't think this is going to…"

"Don't be a chicken Ron…2…1…" He gave Ron a shove, causing the red-head to trip out into the corridor from behind the statue.

Harry returned to his strange contraption.

"The Carrot has flown the breadbasket. Everything is in place. This is the Penguin, over and out."

He snapped the contraption shut and leaned back against a pillar, a small smile playing on his lips. The Plan was ready.

* * *

**So here we are at the end of another chapter...merci beaucoup to all the wonderful reviewers who reviewed Chapter 8: weasleybabe24, rhinopants, Elena Carter and ballerinadoll9... thank you for all the feedback and pointing out of mistakes... **

**I would love to know what everyone made of this chapter, and I look forward to hearing your comments --- translation: please review :)**

**Until next time,  
- die Libelle**


	10. Chapter 10

**It pains me to say this, but THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER :'( I have had a wonderful time writing this story, but there will be no epilogue. Thank you very much to all who reviewed, your comments filled me with so much happiness that I had to run upstairs and annoy my sister by barging into her room, dancing in circles, screaming very loudly and bouncing on her (very nice) bed while she tried to shoo me out. **

**Viel Dank to these reviewers for taking the time for reviewing the last chapter: ballerinadoll9, Harry-Ginny Ron-Hermione, rheartsu and rhinopants...**

**NB: the 'add ruler' thing isn't working today so I am using 00000000000' s as dividers.**

**Disclaimer: JK Rowling equals genius, Die Libelle equals lowly student, therefore the statement 'Die Libelle equals JK Rowling' is mathematically and realistically untrue, and will be _forever_.**

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Ron stood glumly in the corridor like a man awaiting his execution. Why, oh, why, had he let Harry talk him into this? He gulped as he heard her footsteps coming down the corridor – even after all these years of being around Hermione, the thought of actually seeing her (and in a darkened corridor, no less) made him feel as though there was a slippery little creature writhing up the walls of his stomach – it was more pleasant than it sounded, as he had explained to Harry on more than one occasion.

The footsteps were getting closer, so Ron took his place just inside the Room of Requirement's door as Harry had instructed him to do. His heart was thumping so hard that he almost couldn't distinguish between Hermione's footsteps and his own pulse.

Hermione was in a bit of a hurry. She'd been making her way towards the Common Room when Dean had stopped her and told her that Mrs. Norris had been sick all the way down the corridor – and that the quickest alternative route was to take a detour past the Room of Requirement. Hermione tried all manner of pleading, but Dean remained firm, citing that if she wanted to break her neck and become closely acquainted with cat vomit, then in that case he wouldn't try to stop her.

Eventually Hermione has given up, turned back on her tracks and made her way upstairs, along the empty corridor. The door to the Room of Requirement was slightly ajar, which Hermione found a little strange. She stopped, curious, and was about to peer round, when a hand darted out, grabbed her wrist and pulled her inside.

"RON! What on earth…?"

"Sorry 'Mione, would you…uh…sit down for a minute?"

Hermione perched herself on a wooden crate and continued to look round at her surroundings.

Ron watched her take in the crammed book shelves, the pile of mops and buckets, the precarious-looking towers of boxes and the countless cleaning products that were stacked in crates much like the one Hermione was sitting on. He sighed. He hadn't known what to expect when Harry told him that Neville would be the one requesting a place for Ron to ask Hermione out, but he had certainly not been expecting –

" – a broom cupboard," said Hermione, echoing his thoughts.

"Err…yeah…sorry 'bout the mess…"

"It's OK," she replied, fidgeting.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh…yeah, absolutely fine, it's just, could you possibly hurry up a bit? I'm…heh…dying for the loo…"

"Oh, sorry," he said, blushing a little. "Well you seeeee…."

_Sea? Arghhhh! _thought Hermione.

She turned to Ron, "Yes?"

"Well, since Dumbledore made that announcement about the Ball this morning, I've been having this constant stream of thoughts…"

_Argh! A stream!_

Hermione cursed her bladder, and began to rock from side to side.

"…that perhaps, you'd, well, come with me…"

Ron faltered a little as he noticed that Hermione seemed to be a tad preoccupied.

"You probably have, um, a date already right? I'm sorry, I just couldn't hold it in, you know?"

'_Oh, nooo_…,' screamed Hermione silently.

"…it was like, all these feelings have been accumulating in me ever since I first saw you and I felt like the dam was about to burst…"

_ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!_

"I'm really sorry Ron, I've got to dash…"

Hermione ran to the door, and began sprinting down the corridor in the direction of the Gryffindor toilets

"…talk to you later, k?" she called over her shoulder, before disappearing round the corner.

"Yeah, fine…" whispered Ron dejectedly, "…see you…"

000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000

It was seven o'clock in the evening, and Hermione was sitting outside waiting for Ron.

The sun was bleeding across the evening sky and into the clouds. Where some of the sun's rays met the edge of a cloud, Hermione noticed that it took on a reddish-bronze tinge, glowing and fiery – like _his_ hair.

She heaved a sigh, and thought back to the words he'd said to her that afternoon. Ron: sweet, kind and fiercely loyal.Ron who was sometimes so daft and tactless and possessive that he drove Hermione (and Harry) to despair. He knew how to wind her up; knew which little things made her fly off the handle, knew which Bertie Bott's Every-flavour beans were her favourites. He was predictable – and yet unpredictable. Like that time he had lost his favourite pair of socks, and she'd found him sitting teary-eyed with his head in his hands in the Common Room, at three in the morning. He'd glanced up at her, red-eyed and sniffing, and she'd thought something truly awful had happened.

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"_Ron? Ron?"_

"_Mmf."_

"_What's the matter? Why're you crying? Are you OK?"_

"_I'M NOT CRYING. And I'm fine."_

"_Then why the tears?"_

"_I just told you – I'm **not** crying…"_

"_Right."_

"_I'm not!"_

"_OK, OK! So then why're you down here?"_

"_Ohhhhh, Hermione…"_

"_Hm?"_

"_I lost my socks – hic – and I c-can't f-find them anywhere…"_

"_Don't cry, Ron, we'll find them."_

"…_(sniff) Why do I need to keep (sniff) telling you? For the last time 'Mione – I'm not bloody crying!"_

"_Sure, fine, whatever – let's go find these socks then, yeah?"_

"_Okay."_

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The sound of a door being opened behind her brought Hermione out of her reverie. Soon she could hear Ron walking in her direction.

"Hey Hermione."

"Hi," she replied, patting the space next to her.

Ron sat, folding his long legs up so that he could hug his knees.

"Harry said you were waiting out here for me."

"Mmhmm," she nodded her head slowly. "I wanted to apologise for running off like that when you'd probably spent a long time waiting for me to arrive, and were no doubt nervous…"

Ron stared straight ahead over the tops of his knees.

"…and also, I wanted to apologise for not coming and finding you sooner. I feel like now I know how hard it is, having waited here for ages and ages and rehearsing this over in my head, worrying about your reaction and how you would take it…"

"'Mione…"

"Yeh?"

"You worry too much."

"I do?"

"Hell yeah. When you worry you bite your lip – and you've bitten your lip seven times so far."

"You counted!"

In reply, he merely looked at her sideways and grinned.

"You freak…" she muttered, but she was smiling.

"Oh. it takes one to know one, as they say."

Hermione looked a little affronted. "What's so freakish about – "

"– reading fourteen books a day, writing essays in order to relax, reciting chunks of text at random, and falling asleep clinging to hefty leather-bound volumes so tightly that last time it took me and Harry twenty minutes to prise them from your fingers?"

"It's not freakishness…"

"…it's _passion_."

"What!"

"Eeeeeeeeeeheeeeeeeeeheeeee…" began Ron, dissolving into giggles.

"Ron!" said Hermione, retaliating by poking him hard in the ribs.

"Heeheeee…OUCH!" he yelped. "C'mere you!"

He lunged at Hermione, trapping her left arm and exposing her side. He then proceeded to tickle the aforementioned side mercilessly.

"Eeeeesshhh! Ron, stop! Argh! That was cruel! You know my sides are my wee-hee-eak points!"

"Your what?" asked Ron innocently, still tickling away.

"You heard me!"

"That your sides are your wee-hee-eak points? Yes I know. Marvellous things your sides. See, if I prod this rib right here…"

He poked her lowest rib, eliciting a squeal from Hermione.

"…we can hear the cry of a newborn piglet. And if I perhaps poke this one…"

He poked a rib further up, causing Hermione to shriek loud and shrill.

"…we can hear the sound of Ginny screeching in delight at a Pygmy Puff…"

"Ron…stop pleeease…" pleaded Hermione breathlessly.

"Hm. Let me think…how 'bout no?" he replied, red hair falling into his eyes.

Suddenly, inspiration came to Hermione.

"Ron! You've got a spider on your shoulder! Spider! Spider!"

Ron froze mid-tickle, panic in his eyes.

"What?" he squawked, his voice several octaves higher than usual. All at once, he sprang to his feet and began running around in frantic circles.

"Gedditoffmeeee! 'Mione! Gedditoff!"

He turned to look at the girl who was meant to be saving him, only to see her hunched over, tears streaming down her face, laughing so much she could hardly breathe. Ron stalked over to her and sat down with a thump.

"I guess we're even now, huh?"

"Yup…until next time…"

There was a pause, in which Ron attempted to pull his t-shirt down over his knees.

"Err…I'm cold…can we go back inside now?"

"Don't you want to see the stars come out?"

"But 'Mioneeeee, I'm freeeeeezing."

"I would've thought all that running around would have warmed you up."

"Oh, shut up."

Hermione stood up and pulled off her jumper.

"Here," she said, offering it to Ron.

"You sure? Won't you get cold?"

"Nah, I'll be fine."

"But…"

Hermione shoved the neck of the jumper over his head. "Wear it."

Ron sighed. The sleeves were too tight and he felt a bit constricted, but otherwise it did the job.

"You know," he said, "I am so glad you're jumpers are baggy. If they weren't then this would be like a flippin' corset."

"Really? I always thought we were more or less the same size…"

Ron snorted.

"…well, _obviously_ not height-wise, Ronald, but width-wise…"

Ron grabbed her wrist.

"Nuh-uh, look – my index finger and thumb go around your wrist easily, but I can't do that with _my_ wrist."

He held out his arm beside hers. "And my arms are longer and thicker – "

He touched her shoulders, trying to estimate their width. "– and your shoulders are tiny compared to mine."

"Hmmm. I s'pose."

"Hermione!" gasped Ron, "You _are_ cold! You've got goose-bumps all down your arms…"

"Oh," said Hermione, "They're not from the cold."

"Then why've you got them?"

But Hermione was looking up at the sky.

"Ron – look…"

She pointed, and Ron followed her finger to see the first of many twinkling stars appearing in the sky above them. He lay back on his elbows and a comfortable silence descended over the pair. Hermione was the first to break it.

"Ron?"

"Yah?"

"Will you come with me to the Ball tomorrow?"

"Are you asking me to be your date?" he asked, smirking slightly.

"Well…kinda…"

"…"

"So, will you?"

He looked at her, amusement in his eyes, the tips of his ears visibly red even in the semi-darkness. "Bloody hell, Hermione – of _course_ I will."

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The Gryffindor Common Room could generally be described as noisy. Even on the so-called 'quiet days', comparisons with Bedlam were not far off the mark. But tonight was exceptionally noisy – bordering on so-loud-you-can't-even-hear-yourself-think – and all thanks to one Ginny Weasley, who was currently screaming "Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!" at the top of her lungs and running round the Common Room doing a victory dance, which bore a striking resemblance to how a chicken might look while simultaneously laying an egg and being chased by a rabid dog.

"What did you tell her?" Harry asked a sheepish-looking Hermione.

"Err...nothing..."

"Then what's with all the screaming?"

Hermione looked uncomfortable.

"I don't know."

"Oh, I see. This wouldn't have anything to do with Ron, would it?"

"NO!" answered Hermione – a little too quickly.

Harry looked rather amused.

"So. Nothing to do with Ron…"

Hermione fixed Harry with a glare that suggested he might want to drop the subject pretty sharpish, before she was forced to unleash her wrath on him.  
By this time, Ginny had finished her victory parade and had flomped down in one of the armchairs.

"Phew – bit hot in here, isn't it?"

"Ginny," began Hermione, "Would you care to explain to Harry why exactly you were doing all _that_?"

"Um, no reason…" she looked at Hermione, who shook her head vigorously, and mouthed something at her.

"Oh! Erm…because of…uh…P…B…no P…M…X…no…I mean P..M..S…PMS. Yes, that's why!"

She punched the air with her fist. "Gimme a P!" she yelled, and was met with blank faces and a stony silence. "Never mind! I can do this alone! P….M….S…what does it spell? PMS! Wooooooooooooo!"

A smattering of applause broke out, and Ginny blew kisses to the clapping students before settling back down in the armchair.

"So Hermy –" began Ginny.

"My name is not Hermy!" shrieked Hermione.

"Neither is 'Mione, but for _some reason_, you don't seem to mind," interrupted Harry.

Ginny grinned at him.

"So, Hermy, you wanna sort out your dress and stuff now?"

"But Ginny, there's a whole twenty-four hours before the Ball even begins…"

"And? Look, if you've got lessons all day tomorrow, then it really can't hurt to have everything ready."

"Oh, alright."

The two girls stood up.

"You're leaving me here?" wailed Harry.

"Yes."

"Oh, but Roonil is in the library…"

"Well unless a miracle has happened and you've finished your homework, then perhaps you should join him," suggested Hermione.

"But…"

"She's right you know."

"Ginny, aren't you meant to be on _my_ side?"

The red-head stuck out her tongue. "I am. But she's still right."

The two girls began to climb the stairs to their dormitories.

"Oi Hermione!" called Harry.

"Yeah?"

"I take it you've got a date coming with you to the Ball then?"

"Yeh."

"Who?"

"You'll just have to wait and see…"

"She's going with Ron!" shouted Ginny happily, unable to suppress her joy any longer, as an exasperated Hermione began to drag her up the steps.

"Yayyyyyyyyy!" screamed Harry at the top of his lungs, running round and round the Common Room. "Weasley is our King!"

Several students rolled their eyes.

"Here we go again," muttered Seamus.

"Two of a kind," commented Neville sagely.

"Yup," agreed Dean, "Both absolutely bonkers."

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The boxes that Ginny had packed only a few days previously were now scattered around the dormitory. Marguerite was sitting cross-legged on the floor and examining the hem of the dress she was going to be wearing. Ginny was unwrapping the tissue paper that was surrounding Hermione's dress and Hermione was stacking other boxes neatly under Ginny's bed.

Marguerite looked up from the material in her hands.

"So, are you telling me that the reason you guys disappeared that day was because you'd discovered a secret passage that leads to a Scottish Diagon Alley, and that Ginny was the one who persuaded Dumbledore to throw a Midsummer's Ball _and_ that because you _obviously_ knew it was going to happen in advance, you went shopping for dresses?"

"Yes. Exactly," replied Hermione with a smile.

"Oh, OK then."

Hermione emerged from under the bed and grabbed the dress that Ginny had been unwrapping.

"Gin – is this mine?"

"Yeah."

"Okay. I'm just going to try it on, all right?"

"Yeh – need a hand?"

"Nah, I'll be fine, don't worry."

Hermione walked out and climbed a few more stairs to her own dorm. No-one was there when she came in, but she still drew the curtains around her bed before lifting the dress out of its wrappings and laying it out on her bed.

The material was a soft darkish green, the cut simple, with long 'off-the-shoulder' sleeves. Along the arms, long threads of leaves in various shades of green had been stitched – sage, apple, lime, emerald and moss. The hem would just brush the tops of her feet when she stood up straight.

She wrapped it back inside its tissue paper and laid it on the bedside table, casting a spell to prevent anyone touching it besides herself, and opened the curtains around her bed.

_I wonder what Ron's doing…_

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"Ron…Ron…would you wake up please?" said Harry desperately, looking around at the deserted library for anyone who could possibly help him in achieving this seemingly impossible task.

"Ron, please, I beg you, wake up now – we need to get you sorted out with some sort of dress robes. I said WAKE UP!"

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!" hissed Madam Pince irritably from behind a bookcase.

Ron began to snore.

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Luna Lovegood was not known for her powers of observation, but on the morning of the day of the Midsummer's Ball, she seemed to be the only person to notice that something had changed between Harry Potter's two best friends. Nothing momentous – just a look held for a fraction of a second longer than usual or the brushing of fingertips when passing the marmalade or the orange juice or a spoon.

She wondered how much longer it would be before one of them would break – and admit to what had been so obvious to so many people for so long. She looked again at the pair of them – Ron playing absentmindedly with Hermione's hair, as she tried in vain to study.

Not long now, thought Luna happily, as she began to spread her toast with watermelon jam…not long now.

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It was mid-afternoon, and the students were lounging around on the grass outside the school. The staff had caved in to the students' requests for the afternoon off, and several professors could be seen amongst the crowds – sunbathing, chatting and sipping a suspicious drink that had the pungent aroma of firewhiskey ('It's lemonade!' snapped a rather pink-looking Professor Snape, when asked by a curious second year as to what he was drinking).

Cedric Diggory and George were sitting together with Fred, Lee, Harry, Ginny, Neville and Luna. A group of students from several houses sat nearby playing Exploding Snap. Hermione wandered out of the school buildings, screwing up her eyes against the sun, and trying to spot her friends. As she was scanning the grass, deep in concentration, she did not realise that someone was creeping up behind her until…

"YAAAAAAAARGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!" screamed Hermione.

"Hi!" beamed Ron, trying to maintain a veneer of innocence, when inside he was suppressing the urge to laugh. "Did I scare you?"

"Hmph," grunted Hermione, noticing that people had begun to gather around the two Gryffindors in response to Hermione's scream.

"Well, anyway," continued Ron, "I just realised that I had to tell you something important…"

"You did?"

"Yes, but now," he looked round at the growing number of students surrounding them, who had suddenly taken a keen interest in the conversation, "uh…now, I'm wondering if perhaps this isn't exactly the best time…"

"You might as well just say it."

"Errr…ok…" Ron swallowed. "Well, how to put this…if I was Harry or – I dunno – Krum or somebody, I might be able to say this all poetically. But to put it bluntly, 'Mione – I love you."

"Ron, I've told you enough times, I don't care about Krum any- what did you just say?"

"I love you."

Hermione looked up at him. "I love you too," she mumbled.

"Really?"

She held his gaze with raised eyebrows. "Always."

They looked at each other, both blushing a brilliant shade of red and grinning like idiots.

"Oi, Ron!" shouted someone from the crowd; someone with a voice that sounded suspiciously like Draco Malfoy's, "Hurry up and kiss her you fool!"

And he did.

_Silver midsummer moon_

_Floating against the mountains_

_Filling up the sky_

_Take me with you, hold me tight_

_I want to hold the sunbeams in your eyes_

_Kiss you good, kiss you right_

_Kiss you forever_

_My golden summer…_

_fin. _

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**(after Liza Minelli in Cabaret) OH REVIEWS MAKE THE WORLD GO AROUND, THE WORLD GO AROUND, THE WORLD GO AROUND, REVIEWS MAKE THE WORLD GO AROUND...ER...LALALALALAAAAAAAA...**_  
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